Confession
by Mitsuuuu
Summary: L is certain that Light is Kira, and accuses him, yet again. Light denies his accusations, as usual. But, L believes the young man is hiding his true alias, and he devises a plan - a new method unlike any prior. Something truly sensual. Rated M. L x Light
1. I: Kira

**Summary**:_ Ryuzaki is certain that Light is Kira, and personally acuses him, yet again. Light denies his accusations, as usual. Ryuzakibelieves the young detective is only wittily hiding his true identity, and devises a plan - a new method unlike any prior. This new plan, it's something truly sensual. From this new method buds the possibilty of a relationship, and throughout this relationship, Light constantly tries to justify his actions, denying any affectionate feelings for Ryuzaki. He claims that he simply wants to know him, even though he could become a little more intimate than he would like._

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**Disclaimer:** I do not own Death Note; it belongs to Tsugumi Ohba & Takeshi Obata.

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**Confession**

**Chapter One: "Kira."**

The hour was nearly three o' clock in the morning.

2:42am to be exact.

The Kira Task Force Headquarters had grown virtually soundless – vacant – at this late hour of the evening. However, there were still two detectives in the building, attending to the usual meticulous, and somewhat grueling, tasks of this daunting Kira case.

They were silent, in the same room, with little space between them.

Computer and television monitors washed faint, white light over their faces, destroying any bit of darkness that tried to envelop them. Bleeding into the sound of his fingers dancing across the keyboard, the silver handle of L's spoon gently clanged against the side of his cup, pinging a high-pitched noise into the air to disrupt the quiet.

As if remorseful, he lifted his dark-rimmed eyes to the younger detective at his side – at Yagami Light – as the sound of his typing suddenly stopped. Light gave a look of annoyance, then averted his eyes away to his work. He continued. L looked away, apologizing in an indistinct murmur.

Light gave out a small sigh. He entered one last command into the computer, a lengthy one, letting his fingers glide effortlessly across the keyboard. He pressed _Enter_ and back into his chair, resting his hands in his lap. His hand rose and raked his fingers through his hair, adjusting a few out-of-place strands. He promptly crossed one leg over the other. All the while, Light reviewed his work splayed clearly on the computer monitor, reading and re-reading, analyzing and reanalyzing each line, every word.

But, of course, the file was done perfectly.

Every date, fact, and bit of information – just perfect.

He gave a small nod.

"Ryuzaki, I've done what you asked," he announced softly, turning his eyes to the detective. Quickly, he blinked. Ryuzaki didn't seem to acknowledge him, being absorbed in a daydream, his eyes locked on an offline monitor. In his fingers, he rotated a sugar cube, but it slipped from his grasp and fell on top of the desk. He took it again.

Light cleared his throat. He tried again, a little louder than before. "Ryuzaki-san."

L looked to him slowly, question in his dark-rimmed eyes. "What is it, Light-kun?"

Light crossed his arms. "I'm finished," he stated again. "Would you like to see it now?"

"No. Not now…" His voice trailed, as did his eyes, falling over his cup of tea.

A trace of concern ghosted Light's typically calm complexion, slitting and warming his reddish-brown eyes, gently cringing his expression.

"Is something wrong?"

The question hung in the air, brewing up a sort of stress in the moment of silence, in the atmosphere. L crushed the sugar cube between the tips of his thumb and index finger and smudged the fine, white particles into nothing but grain. He met the fellow detective's eyes with somber gaze and frowned.

He said nothing.

Silence, again, and more tension hung about the air.

Light made a quiet sound, a stammer, but L spoke before him.

"Light-kun," he started, quiet. "…You are Kira."

Heat rose within the younger detective – _fury_ – but he wisely masked the emotion with a lowering of his eyelids and a slow sigh. He made sure his form wasn't too tense, made sure none of his irritation ghosted his expression. He opened his eyes. "_Again_ with these accusations, Ryuzaki-san…" he spoke quietly. "I thought your suspicions towards me had ended."

L brought his thumb to his bottom lip, prodding, to and fro, at the smooth flesh. "The probability of you being Kira, Light-kun, - the percentage – has only decreased," he replied coolly. "…By one percentile."

Light looked elsewhere and shook his head. "I'm not Kira, for the one hundredth time. I don't know what I can do to prove it to you, Ryuzaki."

"I don't know what I can do to make you confess, Light-kun…"

Light narrowed his eyes a little. He echoed lowly, "Confess…" He narrowed his eyes, refusing to glance in L's direction. "…I'm not Kira."

The younger detective may have refused to look in his direction, but it only gave L an excuse to watch him – to search his complexion, deeply, searching for any emotional or physical signs of suspicion. He caught a glimpse of Light's reddish-brown eyes, the hue fixed in the usual warm tone, although a flicker of irritation was present and aflame. His complexion was held controlled, but bothered from L's day-to-day accusations.

Any sense of anxiety, fear, worry, unease - all nonexistent.

Well, he _looked_ unsuspicious.

Either Light, truly, was calm at the moment, or he was very good at acting.

L, finally, glanced away.

"Well, I could _torture_ you for the truth, but that would just be completely inhumane."

Light shot his eyes to him. "What are you saying…"

The detective continued on, fidgeting with his bottom lip in contemplation. He brought a sugar cube to his mouth. "A polygraph test? No... Surely you would rationalize a method to deceive the machine..." He paused. "What could I do..."

The room fell to a hush.

Light looked on, watching L in his mode of contemplation. Moments passed, even minutes elapsed. L met the younger man's eyes, wordless.

Light blinked. "…What?"

"I've thought of something. A way," came the answer quickly, quietly. "But, it's rather…" He searched for the right word. "Odd."

"Odd?"

"Yes. And a little extreme. Perhaps even unlike me."

Light made a noise in his throat, one of perplexity combined with a little fear of the unknown, fear of what could happen. What was this new method of his? Something odd, a little extreme, and unlike him…

He thought he saw the flicker of a smile on L's pale complexion, but in an instant, it was gone.

What was this? A joke?

He gave a look. "…Ryuzaki-san. I'm not sure - "

"It's nothing that will wound or injure you, if that's what you're worried about," he assured him gently. "Although…No. I can't promise that you will not be in some form of pain at one point or another. It's a possibility, but it all depends on how you cooperate."

Light opened his mouth to speak. Instead, another noise stammered forth. He turned his eyes away, sighing to dismiss all senses of unease. He closed his eyes for a moment.

"Alright. Fine," he reluctantly agreed. "I will."

What was he getting himself into?

"You're willing to try?"

"I suppose so. Yes."

L nodded.

_Excellent._

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Hope it was an enjoyable read, so far.

Review, if you want. All comments and criticism are welcome.

Thanks all.

**L'Adore.**

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	2. II: Time

**A/N:** Whoot. Another chapter uploaded. Not much, really, to say to you all up here other than the LxLight lovin' begins in this chapter. It's slightly torturous, but not too bad.

Yet. ;)

Enjoyy.

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**Chapter Two: Time**

L brought his hands to either side of his cup of hot tea and lifted the steaming beverage to his sugar-tainted lips, letting a gentle breath blow away any of the thin wisps of steam that flowed from the mug, watching them become nothing. He spoke to Light in a monotone murmur, into the warm liquid, before letting some of the sweetened tea trickle into his mouth, "Disable all of the bugs and cameras first. All of them. For this entire floor."

Light let wariness and perplexity play across his questioning features, but he did not dare retort against L's straight-forward command. Maintaining the image of an innocent detective was essential – more than that. It meant continuing under the clandestine identity as Kira, or becoming arrested and executed. With a small nod, he simply obeyed, swerving in his seat, shifting himself in the unpadded desk chair. He lifted his hands and rested his wrists at the edge of the keyboard, entering various, memorized commands into the system in an elegant speed. From his peripheral, L watched. Light surely felt his gaze on him, but continued on like he suspected nothing.

Disable the cameras and bugs for the entire floor?

But, why? Was any of this really necessary?

What exactly was L planning to do with him?

This new method…

The devices converted themselves to an offline status, whirring and clicking gently as all systems disabled, temporarily. Light calmed eased his nerves with a quick curl of his hands and smooth adjustment of his tie, betraying any and all uncomfortable emotion. He glanced to L.

"They are disabled, Ryuzaki-san."

"The entire floor," L clarified, both in question and statement.

"Yes. The entire floor."

"Good..." L's voice trailed. He fell silent as he adjusted himself in his chair, altering his usual seating position by further hunching and bringing his knees deeper against his chest. He brought a small, animal inspired cookie to his mouth and chewed on it slowly, looking to Light's eyes. Gazes locked. Reddish-brown met slate gray.

L, finally, spoke to him. "Come closer."

Light only watched. Reluctance had him bound and hesitating, and it showed in the character of his eyes, showing itself as an innocent glow. Yes, for once, Light – Kira – looked innocent, as though he had cracked or a breakthrough had been reached. But, this was only the beginning of this new method. L had just begun. He quickly dismissed his uncertainty. The small wheels of the desk chair uttered a quiet squeak as he slid closer.

_What the hell is this?_

Light watched. His gaze grew somber. He didn't speak.

L was not blind to Light's sudden change in character. He had noticed the awkward flicker of innocence in the younger detective's eyes, sensed and felt his uncertainty. Of course, he knew his new method, and it was one to be uneasy about. He would not reproach Light for acting so reluctant. He confessed – it was only human.

L kept his satisfaction clandestine and continued.

"Set your hands on my shoulders, Light-kun," he uttered quietly. "Not so tightly."

Another command. L seemed to speak these orders so effortlessly, as if they were no problem whatsoever. Light recalled the order before this one and tried to make sense of this. Come closer, and now put your hands on my shoulders? He could not foresee any method. He could not make sense of L's commands. Surely, this was something new. Something that even Light could not predict…

And such unease was unusual for Light. He found himself hesitant.

Then again, this new method of L's was nothing _normal_ either...

Light rested his hands on the detective's shoulders and brought himself to the edge of his seat, creating little space between their bodies. Those slate-gray eyes would not glance away from his face, and seemed to peer right through him. Studying. Analyzing…

"Ryuzaki-san," Light spoke softly. "I admit, I don't see where you are heading. I can't devise a method from these commands…"

"Quiet, Light-kun...I'm only doing this, because I _know_ you're Kira. I'm _sure_ of it," L replied, confidence creeping in the tone of his voice. "I'm sure." His hands lifted away from the tops of his knees and, without any visible reluctance, hovered by Light's waistline, carefully pressing their palms against the small of his sides. He let desire take over and thumbed what he could of the Light's pelvis, caressing the hard bone, noting their arching structures. It was only instinct for Light to shudder and buck away at such intimate fondling. L only savored the feeling on his muscles contracting beneath his palms and fingers. The feeling of Light's fingers grasp his shoulders tighter. The sound of his breathing, tiny, hiccupped gasps. All, little hints of insecurity…fear…

L could only smile.

He moved himself closer to Light. Space between their bodies was virtually nonexistent. He made a promise in low monotone, letting his mouth smile wider, "...I _will_ make you confess."

Light stared. The detective was so sure, so certain that his method was going to work. For a moment, he felt a sense of contempt rise to his eyes, along with his own kind of confidence. He would not be defeated by L. Kira would not be discovered, and all suspicions would have to be eliminated. It would happen. He would make sure.

A question ran through his mind.

_How did L plan on making him confess?_

L went on, assuming that the young man was not going to speak any time soon. He, again, caressed at his waistline, listening to Light make a small noise. "You're already making noises? Well…I didn't expect that for later..." he murmured in a playful edge, grasping Light a little tighter. Angling his face to the side, he brought his face close to Light's. This time, the younger detective didn't ease away the slightest, but, instead, grasped L's shoulders tauter. So close. Light absentmindedly bit his lower lip when L released a gentle breath along his chin.

An image of this method began to form in his mind.

He denied it. Would L really…

Yes.

At that moment, their mouths locked.

The kiss was coy, simply their lips gently eased together, and it remained for moments. Despite the situation, Light could only stare at the detective in disbelief, although pleasure, as they gazed into each other's eyes. L watched a faint, pinkish glow rise to the younger agent's cheeks and beads of sweat dampen his forehead. He figured Light was too shy to kiss him harder, so he did the honors. He tilted his head a little further, opened his mouth slightly wider. Light, in return, kissed deeper.

A part of him - the _logical_ part of his mind – screamed reprimands at him.

_Pull away! What are you doing?! _

But, this other part...one that had already began to yearn for L's sugar flavored lips…

It told him to cooperate.

_Kiss him back_.

_Kiss him._

So he did.

This yearning part of Light's brain overpowered any of his logic and sanity - dominated his senses and did away with them. He shivered at a sound vibrating its way from the base of his throat, a moan, flowing into L's mouth. He tried to suppress another beneath the sound of a small gasp for air, but nevertheless, the sound was perceivable. Light fluttered his eyelids and let them fall, angling his head, this time opening his mouth wider. He invited L's tongue inside his eager, awaiting cavern, and L did not hesitate to slip it forward, exploring the warm, moist environment. Their tongues pursued, massaging, their lips hungrily ensuing in passionate contact. Light grasped the detective's shoulders even tighter and leaned his chest against him.

"Uhnn…Nnn…"

"Mmm," L echoed.

An entourage of sweet flavors exploded into Light's mouth, and delectable flavors danced atop his tongue – There was chocolate and vanilla, strawberries and cream, tea, coffee..._pure, absolute_ sugar. All of them were more than delicious and more intoxicating than heavenly, and far too great for words to describe. Utter desire drove Light to cradle the sides of L's face in the palms of his hands, to kiss the man even rougher and let their bodies touch.

No one spoke.

Wet sounds of their lovemaking hurried to fill the room's once-hushed atmosphere.

L encircled the younger detective and passed something between a sigh and a moan. It was as if he, too, had lost his sanity and only wanted to fulfill his yearning. To fulfill his desire to identify Light as Kira – and win.

Light embraced him in return.

"Mmm..." L was groaning. "Yes...Light-kun." He cringed softly. "_Submit_..."

Short on air, Light broke the kiss.

He inhaled sharply. "I-I'm not Kira," he claimed breathlessly.

L narrowed his eyes. So, this was how Light was to play along. Keeping himself in a state of denial. Denying that he was Kira…But, at one moment or another, he would have to confess. The method would corrupt his sanity even further, overwhelm him entirely, take hold of him and refuse to cease.

L would win.

"I will make you confess," he promised by Light's ear. "…All in due time."

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Mmhmm.

Reviews are welcome.


	3. III: Overcome

**A/N:** Another chapter! Haha. I had a lot of fun writing this one - maybe 'cause it's slightly on the torturous side. Lol. You've been warned? I guess. And, I just wanted to give my thanks to all who've been reviewing and sending encouraging PMs, as well as though who've favorited, alerted, subscribed, etc. Thank youuu.

Enjoy.

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**Chapter Three: Overcome**

Light felt himself being eased against the other detective's form, felt his back slip against his chest and pale arms encircle his waistline. Deliberate, meticulous and delicate, L slipped his hands between the soft folds of the younger detective's white, collared shirt, reaching further towards his muscular stomach and lower chest. The fingers of one hands accidently grazed the subtle folds of muscle that emphasized the brawn of Light's six-packed abdomen – the hard of his chest – and L caressed there, humming a noise of pleasure by the younger man's ear. He took one of Light's nipples between a couple fingers and tenderly squeezed it, snaking his tongue against the other agent's cheek. He kissed his lips gently.

A noise – something between a moan and a cry for mercy – shuddered its way from Light's throat and struck the air. The kiss broke on impulse. Sweat had already begun to dampen his forehead in small, transparent beads, matting down strands of his brown hair. He gasped as the other man grinded his crotch against his bottom, his hands trembling for the sides of the chair. He grasped tightly.

"Ryuzaki-san…"

"Tell me what I want to hear, Light-kun. That's all I ask." The detective watched the young man's face with fixated, slate-gray eyes. His eyes remained somber even when peering into Light's droopy, reddish-brown gaze, watching his soft, parted lips and heaving chest. Such beauty... He fought the desire to kiss him again.

The younger detective only spared a gaze at the other man, bound in a fit of panting, never uttering a response.

He couldn't.

This entire situation was a blur to him.

But, to L, that was no matter.

Drawing his form closer to Light's weary frame growing lax in his arms, L lifted a hand and delicately tugged at the white, collared shirt, beckoning for it to disappear. The young agent locked his eyes on the other man's eerie gaze, thin rivulets of perspiration streaking along his jawline and temples. He was flushing.

"Wha…" he murmured, confounded.

L tugged again. "Take this off, Light-kun."

Uncertainty returned. Never before had he been bound in such an extreme act of love – engulfed in such radical dalliance, and intimacy…_Never_ before. Never with Misa, even. It was all so unexpected; being here with this man – this fellow detective, practically the smartest man on the face of the Earth – someone he had always held some sort of contempt towards, although respect…Now, here he was, making love with him…

Cool flesh touched his bare shoulder.

With a coy sound hiccupping from his throat, Light broke from his thoughts and took a glance at his shoulder.

The sleeve of his shirt was no longer there.

He looked down at the flooring, subconsciously. And there; his shirt paddled around the wheels of his chair, along with his tie, silver watch, his belt...

He looked to L suddenly. "What did -"

The detective smirked. "You were daydreaming." His hands slipped around Light's hips, inching towards two tan-colored buttons and a gray zipper attached to Light's fitting, khaki pants. Slowly, delicately emphasizing - effortlessly – he undid the buttons, and unzipped the zipper. He met Light's eyes. "I undressed you…I did a favor."

Light grew unsure, yet eager, softly biting the flesh of his bottom lip, grasping the edges of his chair. He failed to suppress a moan, shutting his eyes in all senses of desperation. Images in vivid array splayed themselves clearly in his mind, overwhelming him with sensations and desires, hunger and yearning.

It was all surreal.

Light breathed out. "Ryuzaki-san...Stop this," he whispered, struggling to make any hint of solemnity perceivable in the tone of his quaking voice. He tried once more. "…Stop this."

The cool flesh returned, this time against his chest.

The detective's hands.

A palm lay over his heart, the other alongside his side, gently easing him back into the head of his chair. Light surrendered to the icy touch, despite his previously uttered words of objection, and he grew lax in an exhale, elongating his well-built frame. His head fell back. He felt L's eyes on his body, felt that slate-gray gaze soaking up the beauty of his relaxed form.

Then, there was a noise.

Rustling fabric.

Cloth slipped from Light's lower body.

A rush of cool air washed over his bare legs.

He shut his eyes tighter. He would not look down. No. Not yet.

His emotions merged, swirling amid his mind in a confounding merge of pleasure, protest, contempt and anger…It was as if his sinister persona as Kira had fused with his innocent detective. He wanted to win, although he wanted to love L…

Kira's intuition told him to cooperate, but, by all means, _win_.

It was all so confusing. Overwhelming…

He released such emotion in a groan.

"Ohhh..."

L looked up at him. He was not blind to the young agent's mental distress. He pressed his soft lips against his thigh, breaking the kiss after a moment. "…Don't be so unsure, Light-kun," he assured in a murmur. "Just follow my lead..."

At this, due to instinct, Light forced his eyelids to rise and his reddish-brown gaze to wide. He turned his eyes downward with a small noise of hesitation, His long fingers glided over the subtle bulge of Light's hardening member, thumbing, caressing. The delicate sensation spiked shivers down Light's spine and throughout his entirety, rattling a moan from his throat.

"Uhnnn…"

L paused to strip himself of his usual loose, white tunic, processing to slip his pale legs from his jeans. He met the young man's eyes; bringing licking his lips at the sight of Light's flushed cheeks, beaded forehead, his otherworldly body...

He smiled."Will you obey me...?"

Light felt his heart flutter. "...Obey you?"

"Yes. Will you do what I tell you?"

Light swallowed. He remembered L's words...

_"I can't promise that you will not be in some form of pain at one point..."_

Was this _that point?_

L tilted his head. "Light-kun?"

"Okay," Light heard his mouth say. "Yes. I will."

_What was he saying?_

L gave him a small nod. There was a moment where silence returned and enveloped the both of them, the moment when L turned his eerie gaze from Light to contemplate the near future. What would he do? For a minute, his thumb prodded at his bottom lip. The detective was scheming…Planning, sketching every detail of his method clearly in his mind.

Moments had elapsed.

"Get up from your chair," the detective ordered gently, looking back to Light. "...And lower yourself onto all fours."

Light's eyes widened.

Only then, did the form of pain splay itself clearly in his mind. The form of love.

He knew it now. He knew what was to happen.

And now, it was inevitable.

Refusing to obey L's words would only render Light a coward and give L more of a reason to suspect him as Kira.

There was no turning back. No backing out.

Inescapable.

Light heard himself push out a soft noise of hesitation as he rose from his chair. He managed to suppress all traces of unease from his voice as he knelt down on the cool flooring, arching his back inward, widening his legs. Again, shivers snaked along his frame, causing his arms to quiver and his palms to grow moist against the tiled ground. He braced for a sick combination of pain and pleasure, fearing the unknown and the never-before experienced, yet eagerly awaiting its presence.

He remembered: _Win_.

He listened to L's chair creak softly as the detective rose from his chair, his bare feet sounding dully against the floor. His hands came against Light's hips, pulling down his underwear. Light shuddered.

"I can tell that you're a novice to this, Light-kun. An amateur...As am I," L's gentle voice whispered. "I trust you will handle it well, though...I _will_ get what I want."

Such confidence…It was frightening.

Light whined. "Ryuzaki-san…I-I've told you. I-I'm not – _Ahhh_!"

In what seemed to be an instant –in one, convulsive motion – L forced his hardened member through the hole of Light's entrance, puncturing deep within the canal. His hands grasped the younger agent's sides and took a taut hold of his pelvis, groping his inner thigh – touching _whatever_ was within his reach. Light was seduced, instantaneously.

The pain was pleasurous, and even intoxicating.

He felt L begin to pump. Light breathed out, then moaned with each little thrust. "Ohhh…Ohhh...Mmm."

His body quivered beneath the detective's hold - his control - growing moist with perspiration. L leaned himself against Light's bottom and backside with a gentle exhale along his spine, all while murmuring indistinct words of love, pleasure, passion, and desire into the younger agent's flesh...He, too, was seduced. And he, too, wanted to win, but love Light at the same time.

He pumped a little quicker, groaning.

Light's chest heaved. "Ryuzaki…Uhnn…"

A trickle of blood ran down the length of his leg. Pain struck again.

"Th-This method… is ou-outrageous," his voice shook.

L moaned quietly. "Don't make me thrust another time, Light-kun," he breathed. "Admit to me…That's all I want you to do."

Silence. The detective's slate-gray eyes grew somber.

"Admit it, Light-kun!"

"_I'm not Kira!_"

The detective grasped his sides. Drawing his erection from the young detective's entrance, situating the head of his member at the hole once again, he waited a moment to regain his strength, taking in a deep inhale before thrusting forward, striking the depth of the canal. Light threw his head back and cried out, form shuddering as he felt himself forfeit to the pain. He trembled onto the tile, his torso and stomach meeting the cool floor. His pelvic area and bottom remained elevated, in L's grasp.

He panted. "I-I'm not Kira…I'm not…"

The detective did not hesitate to thrust yet another time, then twice more, each time deliberately striking deep within the younger agent's entrance. And, each time, Light cried a sound – one somewhere between a cry of agony and a groan of utter bliss. Ecstasy pulsed through his veins and his heart raced. He moaned, shutting his eyes.

"Ohhh…Ohhhh…Nnn."

L, too, was breathless. He stopped. "…Say it. You _are_ Kira."

Such malevolence in the detective's voice – it was wicked.

Light shook his head. "…I-I'm not, Ryuzaki-san!" He gasped for a breath. "I'm not."

His lies earned would earn him nothing. Nothing at all, but more pain, although pleasure. Nevertheless, Kira would have to surrender at sometime – somehow, someway – and L would realize that his suspicions had always been correct. But despite the fact that his brink was nearing, Light felt a spark of determination still alive within him. A determination to fight this radical method of "justice," and prevail.

How would he do this? He didn't know.

But, if L discovered his alias as Kira…His life would certainly be imperiled.

For everyone knew the one and only penalty for Kira.

_Death._

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Reviews are welcome, as usual.

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	4. IV: Game

**A/N:** Yay, a new chapter. It's a continuation of the previous one, and I orginally planned on ending this fiction with this chapter as the conclusion, but it's become a little more popular than I thought it would be. Soo, in that case, I'll probably be continuing on. :) Thanks again to all who have submitted their reviews, subscribed, alerted, fave'd, PM'd, etc...Your comments really support and motivate me. Thank you!

Enjoy Chapter Four.

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**Chapter Four: Game**

L brought his soft, sugar-sweetened lips to the younger agent's spine and kissed along the length of the rigid vertebrae, sneaking his tongue against the smooth, untainted flesh, passing the small of Light's back until he reached the place between his shoulder blades. Here, L's tongue returned, dragging its wet, slick form against the curve of Light's neck and the hard underside of his jawline. The detective nibbled –daring to bare an incisor into Light's flesh, although drawing no ounce of blood. He suckled his throat and collar and smiled inwardly as the younger man moaned. L sensed the low sound vibrate beneath his lips. He breathed onto Light's neck.

"Mmm…"

In yearning for a deeper, more satisfying sensation of ecstasy, L brought his hand over the younger detective's growing erection and grasped the warming member tenderly, pumping – slowly – at a constant rate, for now. Light, too, brought his hand to his member and sat his hand atop L's.

With L, he gently pumped.

"Nnnah'…_Damnit_, Ryuzaki...Ahh…_Yes_."

"Admit," the word was uttered yet again. L sunk his teeth into the crook of the younger detective's neck, carelessly allowing warm wisps of breath wash over the moistening flesh and spike ongoing chills down the Light's spine. L licked. "Tell me…"

"Uhnnn'…Noo…" Light gasped at the little nibbles at his neck – the small shocks of pain. He struggled for a full breath, quivering at such proficient mouth-work against his throat. He moaned and leaned his head back. L did not hesitate to smother the agent's elongated neck with kisses and licks. Light's eyelids drooped. He barely murmured, "I-I'm not - "

L cut him short. "Do not provoke me, Light-kun. I _will_."

A pause. Light failed to do so little as to utter a response to the detective's malicious promise, instead pushing out an uncertain stammer, overtaken by the situation he found himself bound in. He felt the detective's tongue teasing the grooves of his ear, welcoming itself to the lobe, soft lips suckling on the tiny flap of skin.

L murmured into his ear. "…What do you say, Light-kun?"

"I'm not Kira," was the quaking reply. "I've told you, Ryuzaki-san…Many times."

L groaned a noise of displeasure. "Light-kun…I'm disappointed. I expected better from you. Perhaps better _cooperation_," he spoke in low monotone, making sure his words came out emphasized, and deliberate. "You're making this harder than it truly should be." L passed sigh. "But, it's no matter. Although, I am sorry that you have to be in such pain. I never wanted this."

The detective thrusted into him.

Light cried.

The pain – the ache – it reigned. The sensation struck his entirety with each pump inducted upon his entrance, and it rattled his systems, forcing him to call out in broken cries that quivered from his throat. He became engulfed in a sick, terrible combination of emotions – in a swirling mess of pain and in ecstasy. His clandestine persona as Kira grew hungry for a sense of domination, craved to overtake the detective and place him in a situation of pain – to turn the tides. But, Light as an innocent agent – this persona yearned for more pleasure, for more lovemaking, despite the pain that it produced and ensued. Light writhed in such distress, whining and whimpering, groaning out as he felt himself turn onto his side.

He groaned with each of the detective's pumps. "Uhnnn….Ohhh…Mmm."

Watching, L aided the younger man into a new position. He separated Light's legs and elevated one above his head, cradling it in both of his hands. He kept one of Light's legs against the floor, and to ensure that it would remain unmoving, he sat himself on top of it. He scooted closer towards the younger agent's entrance – further on top of his thigh – and resumed pumping.

Anguish struck again. Pleasure struck again.

Light whined. The detective watched his victim with somber, slate-gray eyes - intently. He watched his face – cringed, flushed with a faint scarlet hue, his forehead decorated in beads and thin rivulets of perspiration, his brunette hair out-of-place, swept across his face…

Despite all of it, Light still held such beauty.

L pumped quicker, groaning. "Come on, Light-kun..."

The climax was approaching.

With his last trace of residing vigor, L thrusted deeper than any moment prior, protruding deep within the younger agent's entrance. He held there for Light to endure, his erection pulsating.

Light shuddered, chest heaving.

Weary, L exhaled. "Say it, Light-kun," was his airy command. "You are Kira."

Light did not respond, rather, he couldn't. Exhausted from the detective's sustaining inductions of pain, and pleasure, he grew lax on his side, listening to his quivering breaths enter and depart his lungs in broken, shaken in- and exhales. Through obscured vision - through droopy eyes - he stared, aimlessly, at the floor. He watched his mind fool him. The tiles merged to one, blurred pool of sameness, a confounding, dizzying image of indistinction. He ignored feeling of the blood trickling down the length of his leg, ignored the enveloping pain, L's voice…_Everything_.

He closed his eyes. "Ohh…"

L would not settle for silence. He demanded a response. He executed the unexpected upon the young agent, and thrusted the head of his erection deeper inside the entrance, penetrating, seemingly, the very depth of it. From Light came a trembling cry, one that struck and pierced the atmosphere.

With the pain, seduction followed.

The young detective felt his own erection release onto the flooring.

He moaned louder.

"Ohhh!"

The detective felt a trace of concern flicker within him. He pumped slowly. "Light-kun…" the whisper. "All I want you to do is admit the truth. Do this, and this endeavor will end."

"I have nothing to admit!" Light retorted. "I'm not Kira!"

"Light-kun…Forgive me for this."

He thrusted, yet another time, and held his erected member deep within Light's entrance. He kept it there like the time prior, but this time, clutched the younger agent's leg as he felt a wave of heat wash through him. His form tensed, and in a groan, he released.

Together, they cried out in passion - in pain, in exhaustion – and, together, they panted in unison, having grown fatigued from this extensive, demanding method. A burning sensation began to scorch Light's entrance, having grown worn by the detective's inducted pushes, thrusts, plunges – and, now, his release.

Light failed to comprehend the situation, failed to regain control of his senses and maintain sanity, feeling his form writhe against the cool, tiled ground.

_What was this?_

L's warm release had trickled from entrance and the curve his thigh, pooling on the ground in a small puddle. Light glanced at the puddle, a mixture of the detective's clearish liquid and the young agent's pure-crimson blood. He listened to low, indistinct noises drag from his throat, listened to an unrecognizable voice whimper and utter indistinguishable words of ache, fatigue, passion and yearning…He listened to his heartbeat echo amid his head and his breathing falter, becoming unsteady in wavering breaths.

_Was it over?_

"Ohh…Uhnn…Mmm…" his moans began to subside.

_No._

"Confess!" L demanded.

The unexpected arose. The detective induced another swift thrust.

Light quaked. He bit his lip. "Ahhh! Ryuzaki-san…I-I - "

No longer, he admitted, could he hide. Enduring the method any longer would only jeopardize his physicality and further obscure his sanity. He didn't want to undergo such a thing. He would not, and could not, persist.

Now, it was finished.

Through a gasp for air, he began to confess in a broken voice.

Light sighed, shakily. "Ryuzaki-san…"

"Tell me, Light-kun."

Silence, for a moment.

"…I-I'm Kira."

Finished.

L slid his member from the entrance, leaving a thin rivulet of clearish release behind. He laid himself on his side, beside the weary, younger agent, facing him with those same somber, slate-gray eyes. He stared at him from behind strands of black hair.

Although his vision was obscured, Light could distinguish a small smile on the detective's eerie complexion, and he watched a pale, slender hand move to the side of his face. He felt L stroke his cheek and ease wisps of his brunette hair from his perspiration-matted forehead, all before he planted a soft kiss against his lips. Light was too weak to return it.

L smiled a little wider. "I knew it all along," he murmured. "I just couldn't resist you, Light-kun. I, too, must confess." A pause. "I love you."

Light glanced aside. "I'm not sure I can say the same, Ryuzaki-san. Yet…"

"I understand your reasoning. It's only sensible." He took his hand.

Light watched him, and exhaled. "What will you do with me now? Arrest me already."

L watched him. "...I don't want to."

Light blinked. "You _have_ to. You can't let me be. You can't let _Kira_ live. It isn't - "

The detective silenced him, pressing his sugar-flavored lips to the younger agent's pure, soft mouth. There was a brief moment of silence when the kiss was held, when the detective peered deeply into the younger agent's reddish-brown stare with somber, steady eyes, and, absently, kissed him harder. L parted their lips, genuinely, and met the other man's gaze.

He licked his lips. "You're right, Light-kun. I should arrest you, and report this to the others of the task force. As a detective, that's my duty... But…" His smile had vanished. "I'm feeling guilty now. What I did was technically torture... It _felt_ like torture, watching you endure such a thing... I inducted pain on you to obtain the answer I desired. I admit, my method was unlike me." He paused. "I wish to discover Kira's identity in a more… _righteous_ manner. You'll have to forgive me for doing this to you…"

Perplexity played across Light's features.

_He wouldn't be arrested?_

He arched an eyebrow. "What are you planning, Ryuzaki…"

"We'll play the game - L vs. Kira…" L smiled. "Yes…No one will know that I already know who Kira us. No one will know about this discussion or situationeither. Until I can think of a way to defeat you, Kira – _righteously -_ you and I will be stuck in this game."

Light smiled.

_A game._

He liked the sound of that.

"Good luck…Ryuzaki-san." He smirked. "You may have won _today_. But, in the end…_I _will win."

L nodded. "May justice prevail."

* * *

Reviews are welcome.


	5. V: Admiration

**A/N:** _New Chapter! This chapter was originally one long chapter, but I decided to split the text in half and make two chapters out of it. So, expect another update in a couple days. It'll just be a continuation of this chapter. Oh, and again, thanks to all the lovely reviewers, PM'ers, alerters, subscribers, etc. You are all such help and motivation._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

**Chapter Five: I Admire You**

**The Next Day**

_Twenty-Four Criminals Die Under Kira's Judgment._

"Damnit," Ryuzaki swore mentally.

More were dead. Another twenty-four.

And the cause for all of them? Nothing other than heart attacks.

He contemplated. In the time between the prior late-evening and this early midday, Kira had done away with twenty-four more inadequates; he had murdered another handful of criminals whose lives were inapt for his "New World."

But, how he did this - that was the question.

In such a small frame of time, Kira had acted. Light had acted.

He had not become shaken over the fact that the world's most brilliant detective was aware of his true alias. No, this fact did not intimidate him the slightest, nor did it subdue his duties of passing "righteous judgment" upon the world. Neither was he shaken over what had happened the night before.

Kira would continue to kill.

Of course, Ryuzaki expected nothing else.

From behind him, someone entered the room, unaware that they had interrupted the detective in his thinking. Ryuzaki didn't mean to seem rude as did not bother to swivel around and greet the enterer, instead rendering himself occupied by sweetening his usual cup of hot tea. He plucked up petite sugar cubes and released them into his mug, watching their tiny splashes. Whoever was behind him came to a halt at his side, and he felt their eyes watching him. He had no choice. Ryuzaki spared a small glance over his shoulder and met a gaze, one from behind by a pair of glasses.

It was Soichiro, Light's father.

_Kira's father._

Ryuzaki looked away. "Yagami-san," he welcomed in monotone.

The response, too, was unenthusiastic. "Ryuzaki," the man began. "…I reviewed the footage captured by the surveillance cameras for the building. It was strange. Between two of the recordings filed on one of the tapes, there was an unusual gap in the timeframes. The footage stopped just before three in the morning, and didn't resume until sometime after four." There was a brief pause. He stepped forward. "I understand you and my son were still in the building during those times…"

Ryuzaki fell silent for a moment. He stirred his tea slowly.

"Why were you reviewing the tapes?"

Soichiro became perplexed. "I always have."

"Do you suspect someone of the Task Force of being Kira?"

The man shook his head. "Of course not!"

Again, a moment of quiet. The prior inquiry was disregarded, and Soichiro's desired response was given. "The cameras temporarily malfunctioned during the past evening. It was my fault, Yagami-san. I had been adjusting settings." Ryuzaki ensured his lie came out smoothly, and unsuspiciously. He made eye contact with the man at his side. "Everything is fine and working now. Pay no attention to the break in the timeframes."

Soichiro nodded, and began on his way. "Yes. Thank you, Ryuzaki."

The detective watched the man depart, watched the door slip closed and listened to the faint clacking sound of leather shoes grow faint. He, then, took a glance at the chair mere feet from his own, the one at his side, looking at the offline computer monitor and a spotless workstation.

Light's usual workplace.

Ryuzaki stared. He remembered the night before and he felt, again, the uncontrollable emotions that had coursed through his system, the sensations of sheer arousal and ecstasy, complete passion, pleasure, and perhaps a little craze and yearning. He remembered how the younger agent had behaved under _his_ control, under the rule of his radical plan to have Light confess. Both of them had endured a sick combination of pain, and pleasure, but had ensued, nonetheless, indulging themselves in such an intoxicating feeling.

As fast as they had come, the images and memories of the night faded.

The detective glanced elsewhere and slipped into a trance, although mustering to bring his cup of tea to his lips and take a small sip of the hot fluid.

He wondered about Light, wondered where he was now and what he was doing.

Sighting his next victims? He wouldn't be surprised.

He lowered his cup.

He made sure to see him soon.

_xXx _

_Knock, knock, knock._

A visitor?

Light pretended to overlook the fact that someone was at the door, and he rose from the thin linen bed sheets, feeling Misa's hand give his arm a small squeeze before slipping away. He stretched. A shock of pain jarred his muscles as he fully arose to his normal stature, provoking a quiet sigh to escape him, forcing him to recall the cause of the ache.

Last night.

He recalled how the detective had meticulously overridden his sanity and controlled him so greatly, how he had been forced into various positions to endure, savor, and enjoy such a method of love.

Or, had it been torture?

He admitted, he had enjoyed himself that evening, although he, too, hated how the detective had taken advantage of him. Ryuzaki had overpowered, and succeeded. Kira could not let him win. Light longed for the moment where he would be able to seek his revenge. Even so, a part of him craved another moment where he would be pleased, again, by the detective. The moment where they could kiss and love – indulge.

Which was he to follow? He could succumb to both, but Kira's, of course was most important. The creation of his New World was crucial.

_Knock, knock, knock. _

Light started to stride to the bathroom. He looked towards Misa, her slender frame lying idle atop the mattress, sprawled beneath the sheets. He was about to call her name and wake her, but the knocking at the door had done the favor for him. She forced herself from the comfort of bed while whining a noise of irritation, throwing her hands into the air. Light left before he could become a witness to whatever she was about to do.

Misa forced the door open. Her hands came to her hips upon seeing who the guest was, and she pouted like a child, leaning forward. "Ryuzaki?! What could you want with us at this hour in the morning," the woman demanded in a sassy tone. "Misa was about to cuddle with her Light, but you interrupted us!"

The detective's thumb toyed with his bottom lip. His eerie eyes fell aside for a moment, and he slipped both hands into the pockets of his unfitting jeans, muttering his apologies, "Forgive me, Misa-chan." He met her hazel gaze. "Is Yagami-kun awake? I would like to speak with him."

"Hmm? What for?" she blinked.

"Private matters," the detective responded composedly. "About the case."

"Hmph'," she folded her arms. "Okay, Ryuzaki-san. Light is awake, but I think he's in the bathroom. I saw him walking that way. He seems very sore today. Misa _wanted_ to give him a massage to make him feel better, but you just had to - "

Ryuzaki spared her the energy. "How unfortunate," he said. "I can only imagine why…" He stepped beyond the doorsill and entered the room, shuffling his feet against the carpeted flooring, his eyes, already, searching for Light. He gave a small nod in the woman's direction, one of gratitude. "Thank you, Misa. I'll see myself to him."

Misa threw him a wave. "Yessir, Ryuzaki," she bid farewell in singsong.

The detective said no more.

Standing hunched, and inelegant, he departed from the woman's presence and entered another atmosphere, one where he was secluded from Misa's childish ways and closer to Light – closer to Kira. His slate-gray eyes fell over a door. It was shut, but, of course, that did not necessarily mean it was locked. He further approached it.

A pale hand clasped the golden handle to turn it, and he found a small click to be his reply as entrance was granted to him. He eased the door ajar, and peered inside.

"Light-kun," he called, barely audible.

Instantaneously, aromas enveloped him. He caught the gentle fragrance of soap and the hint of body wash. The scents were sweet and others more masculine, but all enticing. Nevertheless, all floated about in harmony, compelling the detective to step further inside. He heard tap water flow from a sink faucet and a washcloth slip from a towel stand. He turned his eyes over to someone standing in front of a wide mirror.

It was Light, dressed in nothing but his underwear.

He pushed the door closed. "Light-kun."

Light glanced up. His eyes caught the detective's reflection in the mirror, and a flicker of slight disgust sparked in his reddish-brown gaze. The younger man turned the sink's faucet to cease the flow of water and his hands twisted the washcloth until the excess water was done away with. He, then, brought the cloth to his face. His eyes had turned from his guest.

"Ryuzaki," he greeted unenthusiastically. "I'm not surprised."

Ryuzaki did not respond. He failed to tame his wandering eyes. He marveled the magnitude of the younger agent's handsome form, especially lingering his gaze over his bottom, seemingly awing how its wonderfully sculpted form lay curved so perfectly beneath the soft cotton underwear. Light's uncovered, exposed torso bore the splendor of a muscular backside, and a set of broad shoulders gave way to his lean, tall figure. Ryuzaki found his thumb at his bottom lip again, prodding the soft flesh to and fro as his stare sustained.

Light ignored him. He looked over his shoulder and lowered the cloth.

"What is it, Ryuzaki," he questioned.

The detective broke from his thoughts and glanced up. He acted as if nothing had happened, and went on to addressing Light. "Twenty-four criminals died this morning. All of them were condemned on death row, meaning they were to be executed within a matter of days. Each one of them died of heart attacks, Light-kun. Unexpectedly." The detective stared, slipping into Light's invisible realm of personal space and puncturing it, bringing his own form close to the younger man's. He set a pale hand on his shoulder. "I don't understand your method of murder, Kira. How are you able to do this?"

Light leaned back. His eyes slitted, but he said nothing.

Ryuzaki glanced down. "Hmm. Reluctant to answer..."

"I'm not going to tell you."

"I figured you wouldn't. Oh well. I'll discover your ways in due time."

Light watched, silent for a moment. As Ryuzaki looked at him, he looked away. A small smirk tugged at a corner of his mouth. "Say what you want, Ryuzaki-san." He looked back. "…And _do_ what you want to me. Nothing will make me tell you."

_Kira...You're so certain. _

Ryuzaki liked this.

He spoke his thoughts. "You're so sure."

"I have every reason to be," Light answered. "My New World is unfolding." He smirked. "Can't you see?"

The detective stared.

He stared deeply, as if analyzing the warm colors of his gaze, as if not actually looking into his eyes at all, but right through his physical self and into his soul. The eye contact was not easy to maintain, especially on such an eerie set of eyes, but Light forced himself to remain collected and disregard any unease.

At last, after moments had elapsed, Ryuzaki's eyes flicked elsewhere for only a second. When they looked back, they were not at Light's eyes, but at his succulent lips.

The detective cradled the side of Light's face in his palm, and he affectionately thumbed across the smooth skin of his cheek. He watched Light's eyes widen.

Ryuzaki brought his face close. "I admire you, Kira."

Their bottom lips grazed.

Then, he continued, murmuring, "And you…Do you admire me?"

* * *

To Be Continued. ;)

Review.


	6. VI: Intimate

**A/N: **_A continuation of the previous chapter. Uhmm', not much else to say up here. Hahaha._

_Enjoy it, everyone!_

* * *

**C****hapter Six: Intimacy **

_"And you…Do you admire me?"_

The smirk on Light's lips had vanished, and his frame had lost its usual tall, lean stature, growing lax against the countertops as he felt the detective's lips tease his own - grazing, but never kissing. His own tongue peeked out and dabbed against the other man's mouth. He dared to delicately bite down on Ryuzaki's bottom lip and suckle the soft flesh – graciously - again, bringing his tongue against it. He groaned.

He never answered the detective's question.

Their lips pressed and locked.

The kiss was held.

Cautious, Ryuzaki slipped an arm beneath Light and cradled him.

He kissed deeper.

A hum of pleasure escaped. "Mmmm."

"Ryu – Ryuzaki-san," Light mustered to whisper between kisses.

The detective watched him.

Something was new about Light's voice. A certain edge had been taken from its tone. He no longer sounded like the certain, poised character of Kira, but like a tentative, coy agent, someone who was blameless, and guilty of no charges of murder. Figuratively, it was like the spirit of Kira had departed from Light and left an innocent detective in substitution. It was almost as if Ryuzaki were experiencing another side of Light, the one he had loved the night before.

Whatever the case may be, the detective kept his eyes focused on his counterpart. Each of Light's reddish-brown eyes had grown wide, and drooped subtly at their corners, donning the young man a look of complete innocence, and purity. A faint flush of pink had washed over his cheeks and colored his face. He continued to whimper and moan in their kiss, and Ryuzaki felt his quick breathing and erratic heartbeat beneath his chest. He was provoked to kiss harder, savoring each of the little sounds Light uttered.

It was hard to deem such a person as Kira.

Ryuzaki parted away.

"Light-kun…"

He licked Light's cheek twice, then over and over again. Kissing the soft flesh, he tasted the faint essence of soap, and even smelled the scent of faint Cocoa on his skin. It was intoxicating. One of his hands lay against Light's throat to stroke across the rigid structure of the small vertebrate, feeling the young agent swallow in desperation, feeling a low moan shudder amid his collarbones. The detective could not resist smothering Light's neck in kisses, biting gently at his skin, all while cradling the base of his throat with both of his hands, massaging. His thumbs eased in and out, his palms squeezing tenderly.

Light leaned his head back. He breathed out and groaned.

"Uhnnn…Ohhh."

Ryuzaki sucked his throat. He smiled, inwardly.

His taste was addictive.

"Mmmm. Light-kun."

Light's eyelids fluttered.

In desperation, his arms slowly encircled the detective. Ryuzaki, in turn, relaxed. His crotch laid against the younger man's, his chest, too, falling atop gently. His lips found the sweet spot at the side of Light's neck, the place where he could feel a quickening pulse flutter furiously beneath his lips. Again, he sensed a moan shudder, and he listened to the low sound reverberate by his ear. Light embraced tighter. He cried out.

"Ohhhh."

His heart raced.

"Light-kun," the detective stood straight. "Quiet. You'll wake Misa."

"Uhnn. Gomen nasai, Ryuzaki-san. I-It's only - "

"Quiet," he was hushed again.

Ryuzaki cradled Light's face.

And again, their mouths locked.

Little time was spent savoring the tastes of the other's mouth, and instead, their tongues quickly met and acted, ensuing in a furious, passionate massage, enticed by their yearnings for more of one another. A sloppy exchange of saliva endured, resulting in thin rivulets of the clearish fluid trailing down their chins, but neither one of them dared to wipe it away. Neither one of them scowled at such wet kissing.

It only intensified.

"Uhhnn... Nnn'. Mmm. Ohhh."

Light's moans were seemingly perpetual.

They escaped him, merged with indistinct words.

He failed to stable his faltering breathing. He would gasp whenever their mouths would part the slightest, and he found his fingers digging into the detective's backside, clawing at and into the thin fabric of his tunic. He forced his tongue deep until he could taste the other man wholly, until sweet, sugar- rich flavors exploded in his mouth and became intoxicating. Ryuzaki, too, did the same. His pale hands stroked the younger man's bottom and quickly moved to slip beyond the band of his underwear, touching the flesh of his behind. The detective dared to finger a small hole. Light jumped, but Ryuzaki stilled him, and continued.

The agent whined. "Nnnn. Ahhh!"

"Light-kun," Ryuzaki reminded, kissing harder to lessen his cries. "Quiet."

The bathroom quickly became full with the sounds from their wet kissing, accompanied by a chorus of moans, pleasurous hums, groans and the agent's impassioned whines.

Ryuzaki continuously reminded Light to keep his voice down.

The least they could do was try to keep their affair covert.

Light paused to breathe. Ryuzaki quickly found his lips again.

In the previous evening, it was Ryuzaki who had dominated the affair.

He could not dominate again.

No. Kira would not allow.

And so, he acted.

Light found one of his hands in the crotch of the detective's unfitting pair of jeans – beyond the waistline, beyond his underwear. The hand had slipped into his pants to stroke the length of a building erection, to thumb over the head and fondle with the member's smooth flesh From Ryuzaki escaped a small hum of pleasure, and the man looked deeply into the agent's face, into his droopy set of red-brown eyes. Light seemed as if he had grown drunk under such eroticism of their affair, but nonetheless, he fully indulged himself in making love with his counterpart - his _adversary_.

Light persisted. He let his fingers curl around the head of the detective's member, never clasping it taut, but delicately thumbing across the tip. He sensed chills course through the other man's body, and he was proved correct as Ryuzaki shivered on top of him, letting forth a moan by Light's ear. The detective gave the other man's earlobe a small nibble and soon stopped.

He longed to kiss Kira again.

And so, he fulfilled his desire.

Their lips locked.

The hand at his erection, the hand in his underwear, persisted; it began to pump the length of his hardening member with a gentle clasp. It made sure no spot of flesh was left untouched. Such meticulous work coursed an impassioning sense of stimulation through his bloodstream, and he shivered through a moan, provoked to thrust his tongue deep within the other man's mouth. Light willingly accepted his tongue. He wished to overawe the detective, or even dominate a fragment of his sanity - similar to what had happened to him in the previous evening. Such fantasies incited his mouth to part wider, and in turn Ryuzaki was enticed to explore the inside of the young man's mouth – to taste and luxuriate himself in.

The detective felt such elation strike his system.

So much was happening, and all of it, simultaneously.

It was his turn.

His pale hands tugged at Light's underwear. Light was well aware of what the detective was telling him through subtle gestures, and he unhesitantly obeyed, using one hand to slip the cotton garment of underwear from his lower and expose his own growing erection. With a hand at the base, the other situated at the head, Ryuzaki mimicked the work of the younger agent's hand and pumped the member.

Light moved his legs apart, wide, and he arched his pelvis forward, granting clearance. Moaning, Ryuzaki nodded. "Yes, Light-kun."

Their kissing grew deeper.

"Uhnn. Mmm. Ahhh," Light breathed. "Ohh…Faster."

Ryuzaki pumped quicker.

Truly, he was impatient. He wanted him to release.

On impulse, Light gasped for air. He whined. "Mmm! Ryuzaki-san. I-I'm - "

"Quiet."

Light didn't have to tell him.

He knew.

One of the younger man's hands clasped the waistband of the other's pants, as if he were making a futile attempt to subdue the sensations that gushed about him, and sequentially, his other hand worked quicker, though not sloppier. He remained accurate and precise, gliding his palm up and down, covering the length of Ryuzaki's erection each time. His own member had grown stiff, and even slightly pulsated - a forewarning for the soon-to-happen.

The climax.

Light, again, whimpered for Ryuzaki's consent. His chest heaved.

"Ohhh! Ryuzaki."

"Don't be shy," the detective murmured, his voice hushed.

His climax, too, was teetering on the brink.

Light cried out.

And promptly, from both, a chorus of moans erupted.

As one, they both released.

The liquid flowed.

"Ahhh!" Light finished.

Ryuzaki watched the warm fluid leak between his fingers and run down the back of his hand, but to him, the sticky mess was only taken kindly. He brought his own hand to his mouth to let his tongue slip out and lap away any traces of the clearish liquid. He did Light a favor and took the younger man's hand to his mouth, licking his fingers, his palm, and the clearish rivulets flowing along his wrist, ensuring no evidence of release was left untouched.

It was over.

He, then, looked to Light's eyes.

His face came close, again.

It was just like the beginning of their affair.

Light looked back. He panted, his cheeks flushed, his eyes droopy. A moan.

"Uhnn. Ryuzaki…"

The detective thought he saw the younger agent smile. He moved his face close.

"Light-kun."

Their lips grazed.

_Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock. _

Both men shot their eyes to the door.

Light started to call out, but a voice from behind the door interjected.

"Ryuzaki-san! What are you doing to Misa's boyfriend?! Are you hurting him?! I told you he was sore today!" She knocked again, then whined, "Open up so Misa can make sure Light doesn't have a boo-boo."

"Misa-chan," Light sighed softly.

The handle shook furiously. It suddenly stopped. "Hmmm? Ah! It's open."

It began to turn.

"Damnit," the detective swore.

Light forced Ryuzaki from his frame and hurried to slip on his underwear. He raked a quick hand through his brunette locks and realigned his only garment to ensure he was rendered unsuspicious, and perhaps the slightest bit decent. Ryuzaki redid the buttons of his unfitting jeans before hosting the pants further up on his slender form. He, too, toyed with his hair, lifting a hand to tease his wild, black mane.

His eerie eyes took a glance at Light, then turned to the door as it was pushed ajar. His thumb was at his bottom lip. Both watched the woman step inside the bathroom, her gaze wide, as if she expected to witness the worst of murder scenes.

She paused and blinked, flabbergasted.

Suddenly, she grinned when her eyes fell over him.

"Light! You're okay!"

Light sighed. "Yes, Misa. We were only talking," he replied calmly.

"…Hunh? But, I thought I heard someone – "

"It was nothing."

The woman, again, blinked. She tilted her head. "Ohhh..."

"You seem tired, Misa-chan," Ryuzaki spoke, his voice soft. "Go lie down." He glanced at the man at his side. "Light-kun will be with you shortly."

Misa gawked, but nevertheless acknowledged with a small nod. "Okie-Dokie, Ryuzaki-san." She giggled and began to leave, throwing her love a flirtatious wave. "I'll be waiting, Light!"

The door closed.

Ryuzaki turned to face him, but Light had, again, faced the counter. He did not look into either one of their reflections in the mirror, but instead, he glanced downward into the sink, strands of his brown hair falling over and thus concealing his red-brown gaze.

The air was still for moments.

Both were lost in trances, rethinking what had just occurred.

Finally, Ryuzaki looked away and broke from his thoughts. He restated previous said words. "I admire you, Kira."

Light shot a glance.

The detective stared.

Again, silence.

Light nodded, shortly, and decided to respond. "I admire you too, Ryuzaki-san."

In secret, he smiled.

Ryuzaki started to leave. "Will I see you later, Light-kun?"

The younger man looked up. "Yes. You should."

"Good. I was hoping so." The detective stepped outside the room. "We have many files to analyze. I'm glad I won't be doing that alone."

The other man chuckled. "Of course not."

The detective glanced over his shoulder, as if to say more, but instead departed.

Alone, Light turned to face the mirror.

The brown hue of his eyes became dominated by a rich pigment of red, and his smile slipped into a sunning smirk, one that tugged at a corner of his mouth. He watched his reflection.

He remembered.

_"I admire you, Kira."_

Light laughed.

It was unfortunate.

Admiration would not help either one of them win this war.

This was a battle of wits.

If that was true, then what were all of these affairs?

Why did they insist on doing these things to one another, transforming their usual conversation into sessions devoted to making love with one another?

He thought.

Was it to experience and see how the other – the enemy – acted when forced under such situations? Was it to feel them and hear their voice when impassioned, to witness their behavior when pleading for mercy, when desiring and yearning for more, when enveloped in pain, in pleasure…

Yes, of course. Each of them wanted to understand how their adversary behaved – what made them whine and what made them whimper, what made them growl and moan.

Perhaps their acts of love were truly tests.

After all, if one wanted to win, they had to truly _know_ their enemy.

Even if it meant becoming a little intimate.

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Reviews are welcome!


	7. VII: Monitor Seduction

**A/N:** Whoo-hoo. Update! I truly had a lot of fun writing this chapter, and I had meant to write something like this with a Yaoi pairing for way too long. The chapter's somewhat lengthy, but I hope it's not too long.

Read & Enjoy.

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**Chapter Seven: Monitor Seduction **

The room was permeated with darkness, completely saturated in some sort of obscurity, but there was one rivulet of light that struck and corrupted such a murky atmosphere. The source of the light emitted from one online monitor – the only online monitor in the room. On its screen splayed a bolded letter "W," one scripted in an elegant Old English lettering, the letter's sharp black color contrasting acutely against the pure-white foreground pasted behind it. The detective's slate-gray eyes inspected the room in search of his handler, in hopes that his gaze would somehow fall over the unmistakable complexion of the man – white hair and mustache, and small, slanted eyes peering kindly from behind a thin pair of spectacles. His eyes gave one last scope of the area, but it was unfortunate – the man was not to be found.

The detective realized how alone he was.

He began to make his path of entry.

The room was vacant, and silent; he could hear his bare feet patter dully against the tilled ground. There were so many screens, monitors, and cameras propped against the wall – slipped into corners and crammed against one another. Each device seemed to trace his entrance as he moved to the abandoned chair in front of the monitor, each and every one of them seemed to watch him. The feeling, of course, was bothering, but the detective reminded himself that such items were only inanimate.

He sat. His knees eased against his chest and a hand rested on top of his thigh before making a somewhat tentative reach for the monitor's keyboard. He touched it. He brought both of his pale hands atop the keys and began to type. His fingers were meticulous as they danced across the keyboard, entering a command into the system. Once finished, he leaned back and waited.

Waited for Light.

_xXx_

In a room a floor above, a monitor flickered online, and caught Light's attention. He spared a moment to glimpse up from his work on his computer screen, his red-brown eyes expecting to see someone. Instead, the letter "W" stood pronounced boldly on the monitor.

Watari?

A voice spoke to him.

"Yagami-kun," it practically whispered. "…Are you there?"

Ryuzaki.

Why was he in Watari's quarters?

Light scowled.

He glanced down to ignore him, but he was not quick enough.

An image materialized on the screen. It replaced the Old English "W" with a visual of the detective, his form situated in its usual seated position – hunched with his knees pushed to his chest, his thumb prodding at the flesh of his bottom lip. Ryuzaki fixed his eerie gaze directly into his counterpart's red-brown pair of eyes, waiting patiently for the stabilizing connection between their monitors establish and settle, letting any traces of white noise fade away.

After meager moments, he could clearly see Light clad in his usual formal attire - a dark sleeved shirt, and fitting, khaki pants. His hair, as all times prior, was combed neatly, partially concealing his eyes, with the typical out-of-place strands of hair sweeping in arched array atop neater brunette locks. He looked handsome, and that was no surprise.

Light watched the detective continue to toy with his bottom lip, and soon, maintaining a gaze with the man became an uncomfortable challenge. He broke the eye contact and glanced down at the keyboard of his computer to resume his typing, although keeping a fragment of his mind concentrated on the detective.

"What do you want this time, Ryuzaki," Light questioned in a sigh. "Have something more to say about Kira?" At this, he looked up and smirked.

That smile. It was sinister, nevertheless seductive.

Subtle chills snaked along his bloodstream, but Ryuzaki did not let such emotion show. He kept his peculiar eyes fixed on his younger counterpart. He decided to speak his mind, but first, he had to make sure of something.

He leaned forward. "Who else is with you, Light-kun?"

"No one," the calm response. "They're all on another floor, sorting through files."

A slight pause. "Why didn't you join them?"

"I wanted to work independently, Ryuzaki. Don't worry. I have a stack of the files with me. I'm formatting the most important information into a document." He took a glance at the pile of papers beside his computer, and sighed. "…I have a long day ahead of me."

"…Yes. You deserve a break."

Light looked up. His brow furrowed softly. "A break?"

He knew Ryuzaki was alluding towards something. He was hinting towards something he would not clarify without making Light use his brain a little, to contemplate and re-contemplate - just to drive him mad. But, Light perceived an expression through the detective's monotone voice. It was almost cunning in an erotic sort of way, he hated to admit – a little too suggestive.

Ryuzaki broke eye contact.

"I've been thinking about you, Light." He paused. "_Kira_, rather."

A smile ghosted on Light's features. He gave a short chuckle. "Oh? I've been thinking of you too, Ryuzaki."

The detective watched. "Oh, I can only imagine."

Silence.

Light, too, watched steadily, but soon blinked. "You seem like you're… hiding something."

Ryuzaki's eyes seemed to round. "I'm hiding something?"

"Yes. Do you not want to tell me? What's bothering you?"

Light was correct.

The detective raked a hand through his wild mane of hair and scratched his scalp, turning his black-rimmed eyes upward, then aside, in thought. His head tilted. "…I miss yesterday."

Memories returned to both of them, recollections of what had happened in the previous day's afternoon.

That affair. In the bathroom.

Light glanced down. "You miss every one of our affairs, Ryuzaki," he smiled.

The detective looked at him. "I know. I can't help it." He paused. "It's _you_, Kira, that I can't stand." His thumb toyed at his bottom lip, and he murmured, "Do something for me…"

Their gazes locked. Light watched the other man stare into him, but he did not dare to utter a response, instead waiting for the detective to clarify, to specify what he it was – exactly – that he wanted him to do. Ryuzaki started to ease the tip of his finger into his mouth, and his next words escaped in a hushed tone. "…Will you disable the cameras?"

Light watched. Red-brown eyes blinked.

He knew where this was headed.

It was just like the first time – their _first_ affair.

That one that made him confess.

But, nonetheless, he obeyed without letting a trace of alarm shadow his collected visage, his fingers gliding across the keyboard as he entered a memorized command into the system. Promptly, the surveillance cameras faintly clicked offline, and after this, Ryuzaki whispered another demand.

"Make sure no other monitor can contact you. Offline them all, but mine - for now."

It was done.

Light looked up at the only online screen in the room, the one displaying the visual of Ryuzaki. The detective gave a satisfied nod at his younger counterpart's work and the thumb at his bottom lip lowered. He spoke.

"Seem familiar?"

It certainly did, but Light didn't tell him that. His gaze narrowed. "What could you possibly do if you're in the other room?" he questioned. "…What are you scheming?"

"Please. Be patient, Light-kun." The air became heavy with silence. Moments elapsed, moments where neither one of them spoke, only stared at one another as if bound in some sort of anticipation. What would happen? What would become of Kira?

In such quietude, Light could only assume Ryuzaki was contemplating, thinking of how he was going to fulfill his desires. At last, the detective shifted to break the silence. His thumb was back at his bottom lip.

"Light," he began. "I will be very candid with you."

Light's eyes became studious.

_Wait for it._

"…Take off what you're wearing."

The young agent only stared at the detective as he uttered his command, wordlessly taking into consideration what the man had asked him to do. Remove his garments…Was there any harm in obeying such a command? No, not really – not at all, he convinced himself. By obeying, Ryuzaki could not obtain anything about Kira – he could only obtain a sensation of pleasure, and likewise applied to himself. Virtually, obeying was harmless. He knew to maintain a sense of levelheadedness. He would not oversee any sub-scheme in the detective's doing.

Light glanced down into his lap and released a small sigh, watching his hands rise to the hem of his shirt and begin to slip the garment over his head. He exposed his bare chest and stomach, and even ran a hand across his abdomen as if trying to brush away threads that had detached from his shirt. The detective's prodding at his lower lip intensified - only the slightest - as his gaze wandered over his counterpart's glorious form. Every muscle was carved in perfection, and his skin was flawless – it almost looked too creamy, too delectable.

He noticed that Light had been watching him with a smirk present on his lips.

Ryuzaki watched back.

"Why have you stopped? You're not finished," he told him.

Light hummed a sound of apology. His hands were at the chestnut colored belt of his pants, weaving the leather band undone and cradling it over an arm of his chair. His fingers, then, worked at the zipper, and slipped the tiny fastener down before he began to guide his legs from the khakis. Smooth flesh became uncovered before Ryuzaki's eyes, and the detective unknowingly leaned closer to the screen, almost unable to fathom the younger man's beauteous physique. He watched Light uncaringly let his pants fall to the floor, then felt his breath hitch as the agent made electrifying eye contact. Light, again, was smiling.

"You seem to like what you see," he teased the man softly.

The detective nodded. "I do," he admitted. "I want you to do more."

Light's smile lessened.

Ryuzaki continued. "What do you think I would do to you, if I were there?"

The younger man blinked. He eased strands of hair from his eyes, a coy habit. "…You would probably -"

"No, no, Light-kun. Don't _speak_ it to me," came the gentle scolding. "_Show_ me."

Enigma flickered in Light's gaze.

"_Show me."_

His heart fluttered.

Show him?

Ryuzaki noticed such uncertainty. "Is something wrong?"

Light glanced aside. "No," he claimed. "I was only thinking."

The detective made a face. "Perhaps I should guide you. Just to start."

Light looked up. "Fine."

A pause. "If I were there with you, Light-kun, I would make sure your legs were spread apart – wide, and out of the way. I would stand in front of you and take each limb by the thighs, then prop them up on the arms of the chair, before kneeling in front of your crotch…"

Such words departed from the monitor and entered his ears in luxurious grace, and Light no longer felt hesitant to perform for the detective. He moved his legs apart and rested them on the arms of his chair.

The rest came naturally.

"Yes," the word left his lips absently.

He watched his hand slip between his legs and beyond the elastic band of his underwear, his fingers searching to tenderly clasp his own member. He found his own touch to be stimulating, and he jolted when he thumbed over the head, releasing a small cry up at Ryuzaki. He was tense, but nevertheless, he went on, pumping himself slowly. His eyes were on the detective – droopy and richly colored in a warm reddish-brown pigment. Such a complexion…It had to be a sin.

"Mmmm," he felt himself moan. "Mm'hmm."

Ryuzaki savored the image before him, as well as each of the little sounds Light made – each and every one of them was glory to his ears. He reached out a hand to stroke the screen, a finger touching where Light's hand worked. He watched the younger man begin to pump faster.

Ryuzaki shook his head in objection. "No, Light-kun. Sustain slowly," he ordered quietly. "…Remove your underwear. I want to see."

"Yes," Light obeyed, as if mechanical. "Yes, Ryuzaki-san."

His other hand tugged at the band of his underwear, and he lowered the garment from his hips, pulling it down his legs and tossing it to the ground with a flick of his foot. An unclothed pelvis became revealed to the detective, and he could clearly see the hand that pumped the erection slowly. He watched the hand quiver, struggling to take a firm clasp of the member warming in its sweat-dampened grasp. Ryuzaki knew Light wanted to pump faster, but he wanted the young agent to endure the terrible yearning.

Light flushed. He leaned his head back against the seat and groaned. His free hand grasped the edge of his chair, his fingers scratching into the metal in a desperate attempt to seek the detective's mercy. Chest heaving, he turned his head to the side and made subtle eye contact. Strands of his brown hair were matted to his forehead. Some swept over his eyes.

He swallowed. "Faster. Please," he whispered, cringing. "Ohh…I want to go faster."

Ryuzaki stared, captivated by the image.

Kira looked so helpless, perhaps even weak and powerless under the sensation of his _own_ stimulating touch. It could be taken figuratively- it was as if his hand was a place that cradled the great power of Kira, and a simple touch of such supremacy brought an overwhelming sensation. Ryuzaki continued to watch with wide eyes. The flush that had washed over Light's cheeks had deepened to the color of near-rouge, sweat trickling along his face, his muscles tightened from a tense form.

A cry from Light shook him from his fervent thoughts. He met the younger man's eyes with a somber gaze, watching a thin rivulet of preparation trickle along the length of his sculpted jawline. He found his finger prodding at the screen again, slipping over where the trail of sweat flowed, as if trying to wipe it away. Light watched the detective's finger against the screen. A whimper left him.

He whispered again. "…Ryuzaki."

"Go on, Light-kun," Ryuzaki granted. "Faster."

_At long last. _

Light moved his hand quicker along the length of his building erection, and his clasp grew stronger than before, but nevertheless, his hand still quivered. He let his eyelids fall and a shaking breath escape him as he leaned his head back into the seat again. A chorus of groans and whines slipped from his throat.

Ryuzaki leaned closer. "Moan" he told him. "Don't hold it in."

"Ohhh," Light complied. "Uhnn'."

The noises reverberated deep within him, and he bit his lip, lifting his eyelids to look at the other man. His panting had grown blatant. He clasped the edge of the chair and pumped faster, whimpering a coy sound of desperation, remembering to moan up – continuously - in the detective's direction.

Peering into the man's slate-gray gaze, his other hand came against his chest to toy with one of his nipples, to take it between his fingers and tenderly squeeze and release, to finger and prod. He felt his heart thudding against the side of his hand, felt it pounding within his chest, and he squeezed the nipple tighter.

Their gazes never averted.

"Uhnnn'. Mm'mmm."

His erection grew harder.

"Yes, Light-kun," Ryuzaki whispered.

Light gasped for a breath. "Uhnn…Ohh."

"Light-kun," the murmur. "Wet your hand."

Light whined. He gave a small nod. "…Okay."

He hesitated, turning his ecstasy-drunken gaze to the hand against his chest. He watched his fingers continue to fondle with one of his nipples, but soon he parted the hand away and brought it towards his chin, letting his fingers extend outward. His tongue slipped out to moisten his lips, then peeked out a second time to dampen the tips of his fingers in a warm layer of saliva. He moved his fingers inside of his mouth and moaned, massaging his tongue against his fingers and the very top of his palm.

Saliva saturated.

"Mmmm."

He sucked on his fingertips, and slipped his tongue out to drag it against his fingers.

The detective felt eroticism course through his systems. He longed to press his mouth against Light's succulent lips, in a deep, passionate kiss, until the fabric of his being would tear.

He nodded. "Yes, Light-kun. Good." A pause. "Use that hand to pump."

Light moaned. "Yes."

He parted his fingertips from his tongue, away from his mouth. A thin ribbon of saliva arched between the tip of one finger and his chin, but dissipated to nothing as he lowered his moistened hand to his erection.

He clasped.

"Ohhh!"

The sensation was exhilarant – hot, viscid liquid contacting the warmth of his erection.

Light cried out and instantaneously pumped quicker.

Chills rushed through his system.

He gasped for a breath. "Ohhh, Ryuzaki-san." His hand rested at the base. "I can't - "

"That's okay, Light-kun. But, keep going until you release."

He panted. His hand resumed. "…Y-Yes."

He moved his legs further on top of the arms of his seat – further apart - ensuring that the detective caught a clear glimpse of his erection. The hand at the edge of the chair clasped tauter, and provoked his other to move faster.

He yearned for the climax to ensue and conquer.

The erection grew stronger. It pulsated, gently, but nevertheless.

From him escaped a low noise of pleasure, one that reverberated deep within his throat and shuddered outward. His form, too, shuddered, overwhelmed in such a sensation.

"Uhnn'. Mmmm."

The detective kept his gaze captivated.

_Kira's brink was arising. _

"Light-kun…"

The younger agent could not muster the strength to reply.

He shuddered in the infatuation that had bound him captive, leaning his head back to cry out. And at last, he felt another sensation on its arrival, one that compelled him to grasp the head of his member and utter another ecstasy-driven moan from the depths of his chest.

Enveloped in a sense of impassion, he released.

Moans escalated.

Whitish fluid scaled the length of his hand and flowed over the backs of his fingers. Light sat there, immobile and heaving for air, listening to his groans subside to hushed whines and whimpers. His red-brown gaze fell over the detective's image on the monitor, and he looked at him from behind strands of his brunette mane. His vision had become obscured in the endeavor, his eyelids weary, fluttering as if threatening to lower.

This was not finished, yet.

Ryuzaki spoke first. "Clean your hand," he put simply.

Light only took a glimpse at his hand.

"…Yes."

He was hesitant, slowly raising his hand by his mouth, wondering the flavor of his own release. Before he could contemplate long, he felt his tongue peek outward and slip against the back of his hand, licking at the fluid, dragging it inside his mouth. His release, at first, to him, had no flavor at all, but he continued on, and the hint of a salty essence spiked on his tongue.

He paused to swallow, but quickly resumed, and moaned a low sound of satisfaction as he sucked the tips of his fingers. No trace of release was untouched; all devoured, willingly lapped by his tongue.

Again, he made eye contact with the detective, still licking his fingers.

"Ryuzaki-san," he breathed.

The man nodded.

The monitor switched off.

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Review, please.

**- Sixx.**


	8. VIII: Finger

**A/N: **Oh my Goodness. Finally. Geez, I thought that technical glitch would never go away. I had this chapter ready for you all on Thursday night. Sorry you all had to wait until now.

Anyways, at least it's over and the site's back to normal...For now. (*Praying.*)

Enjoy the chapter!

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**Chapter Eight: Finger**

Ryuzaki had been staring at his younger counterpart for at least a minute now; his peculiar pair of eyes concentrated on the man's outstretched, yet poised form across the mattress of the double-bed, a laptop computer resting in his lap. He was sure the man had suspected him watching – had felt his eyes on him – but for some reason, he would not glance in his direction, but insisted on continuing his work, his meticulous fingers dancing gracefully across the keyboard.

Nevertheless, Ryuzaki approached him in slow, even strides, his bare feet shuffling faintly against the carpeted flooring. At last, Light turned his red-brown gaze aside. Quite candidly, he was not surprised to find the detective wandering in. He didn't welcome him – neither one of them greeted the other. Ryuzaki simply spoke what was on his mind.

"I dreamt of that day, Kira," he spoke mysteriously, softly. "…The day of your execution."

Light smirked. He lowered the screen of the laptop.

He had to force himself not to laugh at such words.

_The day of his execution…_

A wider smile took form on his lips. "I assure you, Ryuzaki-san," he told him in virtually arrogant confidence. He made electrifying eye contact. "That dream is nothing, but a fantasy."

"It may be," the detective replied. "But, I am confident."

The younger man nodded respectively. "As am I."

A pause. "It will come true."

There came a moment when silence permeated the atmosphere, when the detective further approached the man atop the mattress and started to climb himself beside him, one pale hand sneaking towards his leg. He had begun to nibble at the tip of his thumb, and his eerie eyes refused to glance away from Light's visage. His face was kept close – studying, analyzing, as if probing, deeply, through his entirety.

He spoke. "…You were frightened, Light-kun."

Light stared. He watched the man go on.

"You were fighting the authorities. Trying to escape your condemnation," Ryuzaki was whispering. "I was there to witness it all. I witnessed the _break-through_ of Kira." Closer, he slid forward. "When I awoke to know it had just been a dream…" His thumb prodded at his lower lip as his gaze angled downward, and dissatisfaction shadowed his pale complexion. "…I was depressed."

Light swallowed. "Well, expect your depression to continue prolonged, Ryuzaki-san," he spoke. "Your fantasy will never become true reality."

"…I wish to experience such behavior from Kira personally. Such fear, hopelessness," the detective locked their gazes. "I _want to_ witness his pleas for mercy. I want to make my fantasy reality." A pause. "Now."

Light felt his heart flutter. A small noise choked in his throat.

The detective looked skeptical. "What's wrong?"

The young man shook his head. "…What are you planning?"

Ryuzaki did not reply. He placed his hands on either side of his counterpart's laptop computer to delicately handle the object in his grasp, and situate it atop a small table alongside the bed, before he returned his slate-gray gaze over Light's face with a peculiar stare. The young man simply stared back, but flinched as he found the detective crawling on top of him, practically curling into a loose ball in his lap with his hands at his waist. The man gawked up at him like a child, and then laid his head against his chest. Light, virtually frozen, could barely stand to watch him, but nevertheless, stood stock still.

He stammered. "Ryuzaki-san, what are you - "

"You're a fine young man, Light-kun. You truly are. Intellectual, handsome, but somewhat evil in your methods – in a cunning way," the man was murmuring, his voice low. He was stroking at the hard muscle of the agent's chest – slipping up to his collarbones, gliding down, gracefully, to his stomach. He paused to listen to Light's accelerating heartbeat – its quickening rhythm – and faltering breaths escaping out-of-sync.

Eye contact was broken. He went on, "That is why I insist on doing these things of you. I do it not to further know what makes you, but to surround myself in your beauty." He sighed and brought his face close, his lips hovering by the young man's with a mere handbreadth between them. He murmured, "I'm so guilty."

He gathered Light's lips in a gentle kiss, and pulled away after a moment. Light felt the man's hands against his shoulders, felt them delicately easing him onto his back, keeping him locked in place – forceful, although tender. The detective made an attempt to kiss him again, but Light gently turned his head. His red-brown eyes grew warm in a sort of irritation or slight objection, and provoked the other man to tilt his head in misunderstanding.

Light clarified, "Are we really going through this again?"

"Hmm? Yes, why not," the man responded. "If you're trying to imply to me that you are growing bored of these day-to-day affairs, Light-kun, I assure you…" One of his pale hands slipped to the young man's side, sneaking beyond the hem of his shirt to touch his bare flesh before edging towards the rear of his underpants.

Light gasped.

Ryuzaki's palm grazed the flesh of his bottom, and a finger parted from the rest to brush over the small hole of his entrance. The detective was teasing him, compelling spikes of shivers to course through his bloodstream as he implied his fantasies, the soon-to-be. As Light shied away in subtle recoil, Ryuzaki encircled him with his free arm – slipped it around his back - to support and cradle the man's lean form. He slipped his finger into the agent's entrance and freely delved into the canal.

Pain struck. A small whine escaped Light in a quavering reverberation. It was pure instinct for him to take hold of the other man's shoulders to scarcely suppress his body's shuddering, and another moan died in his throat as the detective forced their lips to meet. Light shut his eyes. Softly, his brow furrowed as the man's finger prodded deeper into his entrance. Such prodding would not cease until it protruded deep within him. Despite the thin trail of blood that had begun to trickle along the back of Ryuzaki's hand, he sustained, his slender finger practically all the way inside.

"Mmm…Ohh."

The detective felt Light breathe into him. The young man's succulent lips – so soft beneath the flesh of his own – shook as ache further washed through him, and their kiss suffered. He could no longer keep their mouths locked, and so he broke the kiss. His expression was somewhat dissatisfied as he looked over the younger man's flushed visage, his somber gaze hinting a sense of mild frustration. He kept himself on top of Light.

He slipped his entire finger within him.

"Ahh!" the young man cried shortly.

His hands dug into the man's shoulders. He seemed as if he were surrendering, his lean frame becoming lax on top of the mattress as his head fell back, gently, into the soft material of the pillow. Careless wisps of hair arched nonchalantly over his eyes, and others found themselves matted to his sweat-dampened forehead. His red-brown eyes were elsewhere – peering somewhere beyond the detective's pale face.

Ryuzaki felt the other man's heart hammering on top of his own - he was seduced by the image – Kira – _wordlessly_ pleading.

Kira _would_ speak, that was a promise.

Enough of these games.

Ryuzaki fingered harder. In turn, Light, again, flinched, and a cry escaped his broken voice. In spite of this, the young man found himself relaxed, although the continuously prodding at his rectum had intensified and grown more fervent.

The detective was appalled. He watched the other man's lips tremble open to first let out a moan, then to utter broken words. "Deeper," he insisted in a hushed voice. He said again, moaning, "Deeper."

"Beg for it," the man demanded.

"Please, Ryuzaki-san," Light whined. He took in a quavering breath. "…Please."

Ryuzaki complied. He shifted himself only the slightest to force his finger even deeper inside the younger agent, the tip of his finger aiming for one golden destination, the infamous place that would dynamically stimulate the man – much more than previous sensations – and send him over the edge. Light cooperated and aided, arching his spine inward as his arms, in desperation, encircled Ryuzaki. The detective gave a grunt of gratitude and satisfaction. The entrance had moistened. Light was seduced, but surely not enough.

The young man whined. "Uhnn'…I-I want to…"

"You will."

"Thrust, Ryuzaki-san," he went on. "Hard."

The detective felt compelled to kiss his lips once. "Are you sure?"

Light nodded. "…Please."

Ryuzaki, for a moment, only stared.

He reassessed.

Just minutes ago, he had approached Light in his Kira-persona, the, more or less, egotistical, poised and intellectual façade of a murderer. It was remarkable, how quickly the transition had been made. Light now acted impecunious – needy, and longing. He acted as if he simply desired the other man's affection. He acted as if he forgot who the detective truly was – his _adversary_ in this battle.

Peering into such red-brown eyes, Ryuzaki questioned.

Who was Light to him, besides this handsome devil?

_Did he love him?_ The inquiry was quickly forgotten.

He kissed Light deeply, to further disregard. At last, he was obliged to comply with the young agent's wishes, and with a short extract of his slender finger, he made a sharp thrust inward – inside – piercing the depths of the moistened entrance. The tip of his finger protruded as far as possible. He felt the young agent's muscles clench around his finger as eroticism was spurred, as Light opened his mouth to cry. The detective placed his other hand against his counterpart's crotch, to thumb over and stroke the bulge where his erection lay.

Light shuddered.

Anxiety overtook him.

He embraced the other man and forced him on top of him, as if to subdue his quivering form. Ryuzaki slipped his finger from the hole. Light relaxed, and the detective conformed to his lessening hold.

Ryuzaki laid his head against his chest again. Light's hug had grown tender as his once-faltering breaths stabilized to uniform inhales and exhales, his heart, too, unhurriedly calming to synced beats. The detective listened to the thrums grow gentle, listened to them reverberate in his ear. He kissed the younger man's chest.

Light exhaled slowly. "Ohhh…" His eyes fell closed.

The detective nuzzled his head deeper. He felt a slender hand raking through the unkempt locks of his wild, black mane, and fingers stroked against his scalp.

Light had to be absentminded.

Such loving behavior from him was unusual.

Ryuzaki glanced up. Light's eyes had opened, part-way, but they gazed aside.

"…Light-kun."

Light's hand slipped from the man's hair. He looked down at him. Hair fell over his eyes. Ryuzaki pushed the strands away, and spoke, "You didn't exactly fulfill my dreams. I predicted more begging, but it's my error. I hadn't expected you to become so stimulated."

Light's red-brown eyes grew thoughtful. "Are you implying - "

"Yes, Light-kun. I plan on trying again." A smile. "With a _different_ approach, of course."

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Review!

**- L'Adore.** _(Yes, I changed my Pen Name. xD)_


	9. IX: Powerless

**A/N: **Introducing a little...bondage. ;)

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**Chapter Nine: Powerless**

The brunette lie extended across the cushions of the love seat, his consciousness lost elsewhere, in a dream. Even if his limbs were splayed awkwardly, and his form outstretched somewhat inelegantly, his counterpart – Ryuzaki – was still compelled to advance towards him with his stare drawn wide, all to better absorb the gracious sight. A faint noise became barely perceivable - Light's quiet in- and exhales. The detective stood at the agent's side, and watched him for a moment. He failed to find the younger man's eyes, as they were concealed beneath those ever kempt strands of hair.

He moved a little closer. He was sure Light was sleeping. He knelt down and slipped his slender form against Light, attempting to render himself comfortable in the space available, snuggling as close as possible against the man's chest as he could. The detective was not finished – he took Light's arms and encircled them around himself, then relaxed.

Light, surprisingly, only uttered a soft hum.

Ryuzaki brought his thumb to his bottom lip.

The agent had not noticed.

Silence permeated the atmosphere. Tension hovered.

The moments included no sound, with the exception to Light's unvarying breathing and infrequent hums. The detective's eerie gaze had glimpsed up to watch the man's complexion, how a sense of sedation had ghosted his handsome features, and how he looked so tranquil in his sleep.

_Tranquil_ – what a word to describe a person such as Light, or _Kira_, rather.

He smiled.

Then, the young man stirred.

Ryuzaki was alarmed inwardly, but he kept his eyes fixed, his smile fading. The arms around him encircled tighter, and one quickly pulled away. Light brought his hand to his face to ease his hair out of his eyes, even though the strands did not stay completely. He blinked a couple times to sharpen his obscured vision, to blink away his dream and return to reality. His red-brown eyes, instantaneously, fell over the man against his chest.

Alarm flickered in his gaze. However, he did not pull away.

"Ryuzaki?!" he whispered sharply.

The man watched him. "…I didn't think you would awake so quickly," he lied.

Light was no fool. His eyes narrowed. "How long have you been here?"

"Not long at all, Light-kun," Ryuzaki murmured. "Five minutes, at the most."

"Hmm." The young man glanced elsewhere. "It bothers me, how you think you can touch me so _freely_." His red-brown eyes struck a glare. "I'm not something you can just snuggle all over, Ryuzaki-san," he scolded the other man like a child.

The detective studied him. "I enjoy being close to you. Being - _intimate_…" His eyes lifted upward and aside; he was thinking. "…It's nice. Don't you think so?"

Light made a sound of discomfort. He blinked, and his heart fluttered. He forced his eyes from the man. "I understand that, but - "

He gasped.

Ryuzaki was ignoring him.

He continued to snuggle deeper into Light's supportive frame, leaning into his chest and making himself comfortable in his lap. Light straightened and leaned back into the arm of the couch, blinking twice as he watched the man rest his head by the crook of his neck. His face was in disbelief, perhaps in a little disgust as well, but even so, a very subtle smirk tugged at a corner of his mouth. Nevertheless, he spoke in an angry tone, his eyes heated.

"What are you doing this time?"

Ryuzaki glanced up at him. "You are quite comfortable, Light-kun."

"That's no excuse to - "

"I won't be here for long."

Light blinked. He felt himself grow tense as one of the man's slender hands moved by the side of his face. A pale finger inched forward to prod at his cheek, then to slowly twist a strand of his hair and tug at it delicately. The detective nuzzled his head deeper into Light's chest as if comfortable and satisfied with his place in his lap, but in truth, he wasn't entirely pleased.

His slate-gray eyes looked up – wide, almost in a childish plea.

"Would you at least _pretend_, Light-kun?"

Light made a face. "Pretend what?"

"That you like having me here."

The younger man's eyes grew cold. "I don't."

"I know you don't. That's why I want you to pretend."

A scowl. "…And do what?"

"…Hold me."

Light gave a sigh.

His arms were hesitant to encircle the other man's frame, and he winced at the feeling of him wriggling beneath his embrace, the feeling of him easing himself even deeper against him. One of the detective's cold hands slipped into one of his. His fingers entwined between his own, and the man uttered nothing, only kept his head against Light's chest, his eyes forward in some sort of trance. Light watched him.

He wondered, _What is he doing, acting like this?_

_Such a child_.

Light spoke. "What are you - "

It was sudden.

Ryuzaki was quick to perk up, and lock their lips.

It was impulsive for Light to close his eyes as the man's lips met his own, as the subtle flavor of sugar crystals and coffee snaked onto his tongue. He tried to remain in a collected state of mind, but failed to render himself controlled as he felt himself giving in a little – _forfeiting _to what this man was doing. His shoulders sunk and he relaxed, and he could take a deep breath again; he was no longer uncomfortable. His eyelids rose. He found the other man's dark eyes staring into his red-brown pair. His lips loosened, and even parted – he was absentminded. A tongue - not his own - was almost coy to slip inside. He moaned so softly. His own tongue acted, massaged, and indulged.

"Mmm…"

Ryuzaki's hands were up his shirt and at his sides, his thumbs stroking across the smooth flesh of his lean form, massaging his skin as their kiss would fluctuate, relax, then grow passionate again. Light puckered his succulent lips, and breathed into the detective. Ryuzaki noted that the young man tasted of nothing, really, as if he were so _pure_.

_Kira, pure? _

Ryuzaki smiled inwardly.

"Light-kun…" The man separated their lips.

Light, confused, stared. "What is it? You stopped."

He stared. "Why, you sound disappointed," Ryuzaki's voice hinted a trace of mockery. "Just a minute ago, you were scowling at my presence. It's remarkable, how you can change so quickly. You are composed of these _personas_, Light. These two very distinct…_façades_."

"Yes. I know…Kira, and Light," Light told him as-a-matter-of-factly. He smiled. "But, I'm sure you already knew that."

"You're right." The detective slipped away to return to his place in the young man's lap, his cheek against his chest, his pale hand clasped in one of his. He glanced up. "You can return to sleep, Light-kun. I won't bother you."

Light smirked. "I don't believe I can trust you when I'm sleeping," he cracked.

Something flickered in Ryuzaki's eyes.

There was a pause. "…Trust me."

_xXx_

When Light awoke, he peered about the room through his much slumber-obscured vision, his eyelids fluttering frequently to clear away the blurs and sharpen the vague, merging images. He was right where he had remembered – stretched out across the love seat, in the usual room where he and the detective analyzed and decoded the Kira case. The room was virtually silent, with the exception of droning computer hard drives.

The brunette stirred, and shifted in his seat to stretch - but _what was this?_

Something rattled.

His arms were incapable of moving. His hands, bound – _cuffed_. And his feet – he wriggled them at the ankles, desperation striking him. He couldn't do this either - something was wound around his ankles, something like a pair of shackles.

He was reluctant to lift his eyes over the tops of his kneecaps.

He saw them – chains.

His eyes rounded.

_What was this?_

_…Where was Ryuzaki?_

Light glanced around. His heart had begun to race, in a terrible combination of anger and great perplexity. Kira had grown tired of the detective's practical games, these supposed radical methods of justice or whatever the detective called it. He shot forward. The chains around his wrists jingled in a quiet clatter behind his back, as did the shackles about his ankles. His red-brown eyes became aflame in the emotions that welled within him – the rage that swirled coursed through his systems, the confusion that rattled his mind, the longing to be set free…

His gaze narrowed.

Light yelled, "Ryuzaki-san!"

His voice reverberated for only a moment, and then faded.

_No one_ answered.

He swore, "_Damnit_."

A monitor flickered online.

Light's eyes shot upward.

He saw Ryuzaki. The man balanced a small mug of steaming tea in his pale fingers, and lifted the hot liquid to his lips to take a sip, his wide eyes fixed on the much angered agent – _bound_ in cuffs. Inwardly, he was glad to see that he had awakened.

"Light-kun," he greeted him softly. "Did you sleep well?"

Light's chains rattled as he leaned forward a little more, as if wanting the other man to clearly see the irritation on his complexion, the fire in his eyes. He glared. "Damnit, Ryuzaki! What have you done this for?! It's completely unnecessary!"

"Unnecessary…No," the man corrected him coolly. "I have my reasons, Kira."

The agent scowled. "I know what you are alluding to. I know where this will go…What this will become."

_Another affair._

Ryuzaki smiled. "And each time, Light-kun, you seek, and _find_, pleasure."

The monitor flickered offline.

Light's red-brown eyes grew wide in a sense of alarm, but anger quickly set in and took its place, splayed in a tensing jaw and clutched firsts, a rigid body and a shortage of air. He cried out a sound of rage, but the yell was futile in releasing any of his anger. His eyes flicked about the room as if the detective were to appear out of thin air; he was desperate to see the man, and truly show him this fury. He, really, did not understand why he was so irritated. He knew what was to happen in the near future - _love_ - yet another affair between him and his adversary. He knew he would end up enjoying it – No, he couldn't say that.

He had to remain indifferent – do not look forward to that affair.

_Don't give in._

The Devil's Advocate: _How is that possible?_

_How could he remain strong…_

He admitted, when it came to these affairs, the detective was dominating.

And as of right now...Ryuzaki was _winning_.

He had bound Kira in chains and rendered him immobile - _helpless_.

Kira could only wait.

He sulked.

His patience was slowly lessening.

His eyes shifted to red.

"Ryuzaki-san," the growl under his breath.

_Where was that man?_

The door opened behind him.

He could barely turn himself to glimpse at the one who entered. His eyes caught the inelegant form of no one other than the detective himself, and still, he held that cup of hot tea in one of his hands, the other tucked indolently in the pocket of his jeans. He took a sip before bothering to look over at Light, to look over the work he had done. The young man's eyes were narrowed, and fixed on him in a heated glare. Light futilely struggled in his chains again.

"…This is ridiculous."

Ryuzaki set his cup of tea down on a small table. "Ridiculous? I wouldn't call it that," he spoke softly. "You're only calling it such a thing, because you're _angry_, Kira. I've rendered you immobile and bound…Powerless. Right now, _I'm_ winning."

He was correct. Light's glare intensified.

Ryuzaki said nothing more for the moment, and instead slipped himself onto the couch beside his young, angered counterpart, to lift his hands and let them glide to a pair of broad shoulders. His lips hovered at his neck, and his tongue was bold to slip out against the nearby flesh, to lap at and taste. His smile was faint; his laughter was quieter.

"I can do _whatever I want_ to you."

Light's eyes rounded.

He felt the man's lips kissing at his collarbones, and so greatly did he want to let a small, building moan escape him, but the _Kira_ part of his mind told him not to succumb.

The mental voice was almost threatening.

_Don't you dare give in_, it ordered. _Don't you dare_.

Light even nodded, absently, at his mind's demand. He was well aware - Giving in would only further encourage the statement that Ryuzaki _was_ winning. He would have to try to be strong-willed, but he remembered previous times…Each and every time, in each and every affair, he gave in.

What would it take to make this affair different?

His thoughts overwhelmed him.

He bit his lower lip and closed his eyes, saying nothing.

Could he do it?

Ryuzaki's lips hovered to the side of Light's face. He took advantage of the moment and let his eyes look over the young man's complexion, the traces of struggle ghosting over his visage, a sense of longing hinting through a softly-furrowed brow and knitted eyebrows. He knew exactly what Light was trying to do. He was pretending not to be aroused.

The detective smiled, to himself really, and slipped himself in Light's lap, his hands still fixed on his shoulders, his legs encircling the young man's waistline. His mouth moved expertly alongside a sculpted jawline, fluttering delicately atop his smooth flesh, simply gliding across the surface – never pressing in. Such a gentle sensation compelled Light's eyelids to rise. He tried his best to look un-enticed, his red-brown eyes kept in a soft, although weakening glare. The desire to kiss the detective caused his hands to curl to fists. He forced his eyes to turn elsewhere.

He had to convince himself.

_You are not aroused. You are not aroused._

Lips were on his now, and a tongue prodded, wanting access.

Light grunted.

_You are not aroused. Believe it._

The tongue forced entry. It hungrily explored the inside of his mouth, and lips massaged passionately against his own, longing to savor and taste him wholly, completely. Light did not understand why he couldn't simply move his mouth away and break the kiss. Why did he choose to endure it, but not succumb and kiss him back? What sense did that make?

He made a small noise in his throat and attempted to turn his head, but the detective's mouth was like a magnet to his own. It stuck to his lips, and would not dare to part away.

He heard himself object, his words muffled. "Stop this, Ryuzaki."

No response, only a deepening kiss.

A broken noise escaped him. Light felt a trail of saliva trickle from one side of his mouth, felt it snake along his chin and tickle the underside. The detective's hands were at either side of his face – cradling the hard bone of his jawline, thumbs pressing into his cheeks. Ryuzaki kept on for only a minute or so more before he moved his lips from the young man's, his black-rimmed eyes peering deep into red-brown.

Light was the first to speak. "…Why are you doing this?"

Ryuzaki ignored his inquiry. His eyes lowered. "I know what you are trying to do, Kira," he murmured. "You're _pretending_. You're putting on an act. You don't want to surrender to what I'm doing to you, like you have done in prior affairs." He started to lift the hem of Light's shirt, exposing his bare torso – his perfect chest and abdomen, such carved beauty, that sculpted physique. He touched over the muscular folds of his stomach.

He promised, "I _will_ arouse you, Light-kun. And, like the times before, you _will_ submit."

His lips were at the center of his chest, moving upward towards his heart. They sensed the organ's furious thumping, and when the detective made eye contact, the rhythm only accelerated, even palpitating on the occasion. Light watched the man move his lips over one of his nipples, his teeth delicately gnawing into the hardening flesh. Instantaneously, a moan built up in his throat. He tried to swallow it away, but it escaped him in a coy, shivering groan. As if regretting the noise he made, Light bit his lip and turned his face aside. His hands shook, wanting to shove the other man off of him.

He couldn't do anything.

_Damnit_, he cursed.

He could not do anything…

"What will you do, Kira?" came the detective's voice in a low whisper. "…I've got you."

Light watched him, watched his pale hands set on the tops of his knees and press down, forcing him to extend his legs. The buttons of his pants were weaved undone and the small, golden zipper was slipped downward. The pants were lowered just enough to expose his thighs. Light felt his breathing hitch as fingers stroked around the area of his developing erection. Ryuzaki was not blind to his hardening member. He looked up at his younger counterpart with a small smile.

"I knew you were aroused, Light-kun."

Light narrowed his gaze.

The detective said again, "You want to win, and by pretending to be indifferent is how you plan on obtaining your success." He kissed the subtle bulge where Light's erection stood beneath his underwear, then stroked the soft fabric of the garment, teasing the member. "I promise you. You will lose."

Light grunted, struggling again. "I will not."

Ryuzaki lowered the agent's pants further until the majority of his legs had become exposed, and he was absentminded as his hand caressed the bare skin of his thighs, fond of such smooth flesh beneath his palm. He disregarded his legs for a moment and looked to his feet – unmoving, yet tempting. He positioned himself in front of them, slipping out of Light's lap to sit on his knees, sulked and hunched, his mouth mere inched from his toes.

The detective licked his lips.

Light's eyes widened.

_He wouldn't._

He was instinct to attempt to recoil, but he only pushed himself against a barrier – the couch arm.

He was trapped.

Ryuzaki parted his moistened lips and suckled one of Light's toes, and his tongue did not wait long to slip forth to taste the sole. Immediately, a tickling sensation jarred Light's systems and he was provoked to let out a chuckle, a bright smile finding form - quickly - on his lips. The feeling was accompanied by a sense of arousal, one that began as a subtle emotion before blossoming to something much more. His laughter merged with moans, and he felt his fingers clawing into the couch, his head falling back.

The detective loved his voice.

Kira's laughter was beautiful.

His tongue worked faster against his foot. He tasted nothing, but purity – his sole was not tainted with any particular essence, yet he acted as if it did and hungrily adored it. His lips gathered one of his toes.

Light's laughter swelled. He threw himself forward, his smile widening.

"Ohh, Ryuzaki-san," he groaned. "Hahaha – Ohhh."

He was succumbing.

Slowly, but surely.

The detective sucked one of his toes. "Mmm? Light-kun?"

Light chuckled – low, sexy. His lips snuck a kiss against the other man's cheek. He kept laughing in his ear, subconsciously licking and nibbling Ryuzaki's earlobe, nuzzling the side of his face against his. He said nothing, only kissed, his moans vibrating within his throat. Ryuzaki was somewhat tentative to kiss him back.

Such a transition in such little time. What happened to Kira? What happened to "Stop this, Ryuzaki," and the Light that pretended to be indifferent about this whole affair?

Where had that façade gone, so quickly?

…Remarkable.

There was little time to contemplate.

He felt _himself_, now, succumbing to Kira's doings, lifting his head away from Light's feet to peer into a pair of electrifying red-brown eyes. Light pulled his lips into a gentle kiss. It seemed as if the affectionate gesture would continue for moments more, but it was quickly broken.

Light pulled away. He breathed heavily.

A sense of amnesia flickered across his face. His eyes dropped elsewhere.

_What am I doing?_

The detective studied him. "What is it, Light-kun? Don't play coy with me now."

He slipped into Light's lap again. One of his pale hands hovered by the younger man's ever-developing erection, and a couple of his fingers dared to move into his underwear to touch the hardened member personally. Light was stimulated; he let out a ineffectively suppressed moan, his head falling aside into the couch cushions. A hand was at the base of his throat, aimlessly prodding at his collarbones, while lips moved over his mouth, kissing deeply. He was vaguely aware that the caressing of his erection had become more vigorous. Heat engulfed his body. He felt himself flushing in such a fire, his lips absently kissing the man back.

_Why am I being so mechanical?_

He turned his face away.

_Stop. _

"…Stop it," he could barely protest.

Ryuzaki leaned back.

_You were just giving in. What happened?_

His eyes were somber. "I've heard enough of your objections, Light-kun. I didn't think I would have to do this…" A hand slipped into the back pocket of his pants to retrieve a roll of tape.

Disbelief shadowed Light's gaze. He shook his head.

"You wouldn't, Ryuzaki. This is becoming too extreme."

The detective went on. He rolled out a strip of tape and moved close to Light's face, setting the adhesive over his mouth. Light grunted and made a futile attempt to escape by turning his head in another direction – lashing in refusal - but his move only helped Ryuzaki secure the tape even further over his lips. His eyes grew heated.

He was _powerless_.

Ryuzaki smiled, and returned the tape to his pocket. A finger was at his chin. "It's a lose-lose situation, actually…in a way. You can't speak and I can't kiss your mouth anymore." He looked down. "What a shame."

Light's gaze had fallen aside as the man spoke. A greater sense of anger had begun to build up inside him. He could not believe he was like this – bound in chains and now rendered incapable of speech. _Damnit_, Ryuzaki was winning. There was nothing he could do to escape the detective's doings. He would have to endure them – all of them. The least he could do was remain as silent as possible, even when feelings of passion grew heated. Showing his pleasure would be like surrendering to Ryuzaki.

But, even so, he knew he would probably end up – _No._

_Remain certain. Confidence was key._

It was then when he realized how silent the other man had been.

Light looked back at him, and noticed his eyes were still downward. He followed his gaze. It was fixed over his underwear, his wide, eerie eyes seeming to peer right through the fabric. One of Ryuzaki's pale hands was inside his underpants, but its caressing had grown more delicate and subtle, a contrast to the fervent clasping that had been induced moments before. Certainly, the detective was thinking. His gaze still cast downward, he brought his other hand to the elastic band of Light's underwear to aid the other in slipping the garment down. Light felt his heart skip a beat, but all traces of alarm were forced away – kept clandestine.

_You are not aroused_, he lied to himself.

Ryuzaki took a glance up at him to stare for only seconds before he looked down again, both of his hands moving to cradle the young man's erection.

"This is proof, Light-kun. Proof of your arousal."

Light glared.

"I told you already, I _know_ what you are trying to do. I am sure of it. You're pretending." He kissed the erection softly, stroking it in his fingers, cradling it in his palms. "However, you can only hide so much."

_He was right. _

_Damnit, he was right._

Light's anger grew, but cooled when a mouth slipped over his member.

A moan was settling in his throat –sitting there and building, choking up within him until he felt his throat funnel tight. Light destroyed the growing sound, and forced his features to remain as neutral as possible. Struggle appeared as bead of perspiration on his forehead.

Do not show it. Do not show him anymore proof.

His glare kept on the detective, and although it had softened, it managed to retain an amount of fury.

He swallowed. "Mmm'."

Ryuzaki's eyes were intent on the young man's visage; they were not blind to the faint struggle in his complexion, that little hint of yearning and desperation. He worked his mouth faster, and, subsequently, his tongue, easing the head of the erection deep into his throat, deeper each time.

It was accidental – a small moan escaped forth. Light dropped his head as if shameful. The ecstasy was getting to him; his mind was a wreck. He tried to make an attempt to look up at the detective, but his hair blinded the view.

He shut his eyes. His form shivered.

"Mmm," he barely hummed. "…Mm'mmm. Mmm!"

Ryuzaki made a similar noise in reply, as if to encourage him.

_Yes, Light-kun._

His mouth left his erection and one of his pale hands took over, pumping in short, deliberate bursts with a firm clasp. His lips decided to work at Light's navel and lower stomach, his tongue – slickened with saliva – lapping at his smooth skin. Whenever he felt the desire, he would plant small kisses into the young man's flesh, and listen to moan in reply. His hand moved quicker. His lips trailed to his chest.

"Mmm, Light-kun," he murmured. "You're _delicious_."

"Mmmm!" Light's reply.

Ryuzaki looked to his eyes.

A pair of red-brown had drooped in the passion, a sight as if to say that he had forfeited, or had grown exhausted. But, Ryuzaki knew what the look implied. Kira had reached his brink, no doubt, and he would soon release. He looked down to the young man's erection with a slight tilt of his head. The member was surely hardened. He could sense the warmth of the organ radiating into the palm of his hand. At once, Light tensed and hummed loudly, his chains rattling as his form shuddered.

A rush of whitish liquid flowed onto his hand. He brought his fingers to his mouth and cleaned them, behaving animal-like and childish as he sucked the tips of his fingers. His eyes glanced at Light's face – flushed, sweat dampened, and fatigued. The young man lay panting with his chest rising and falling in faltering breaths. Ryuzaki slipped himself against Light's bare chest and set his head down. He was still cleaning his hand.

Kira's heart was like a drum beneath his ear. He savored the sound.

"Light-kun," he whispered and looked up. He used one hand to remove the strip of tape pasted across the young agent's mouth, and immediately, Light began to pant even heavier, gasping in sharp in- and exhales.

"You gave in, Kira," Ryuzaki told him. "You couldn't withstand. I was right."

A pause.

"…You lost."

Light's breathing calmed. "…You had me bound," he panted. "There was no way I could object. You saw through my only plan – pretending…" He shook his head. "And what you were doing to me…"

Ryuzaki smiled. "It was quite nice, wasn't it?"

Light said nothing. He frowned.

Reality hit him.

_I lost._

The detective acknowledged. He could understand Light's unwillingness to speak. He moved, and hand slipped into his pocket to retrieve a key. "Allow me to undo these chains." He started with the handcuffs clamped around the young agent's wrists, pushing the key into the lock to watch the chains undo with a crisp click. He shifted, then undid the cuffs binding Light's feet.

Light sighed in relief. He stretched, and began to stand.

Ryuzaki watched him, hunched on the couch.

"I hope I didn't anger you too greatly, Kira."

Light chuckled. He pulled down his shirt and smoothed out a crease at the abdomen before running a slow hand through his brunette locks, perfecting any strands that had been rendered unkempt in their interaction. He glimpsed over his shoulder. "No matter what you do, Ryuzaki-san, I will always hold some sort of anger towards you." He smirked. "You're my adversary, remember?"

A nod. "Yes, I am. I know that. Although…I respect you, Kira."

Light started to leave. "…I respect you too, Ryuzaki."

His footsteps faded.

The detective was alone.

The affair was over.

Now, he evaluated.

_Who is Kira to me? Rather, what is he to me? Kira respects me, or so he told me, but no matter what, he will always feel a sense of loathing towards me, because I am his adversary – that is what he said. It makes sense; I am in his way, impeding his destination: A new world. But, could I say the same? Do I feel a sense of anger towards Kira? Although his morals are crooked, his intentions for the world are good, to an extent – he wishes to rule a world where iniquity is nonexistent. _

_Nevertheless, he is evil, and must be stopped. So, yes, I do not favor him._

_At any rate, Kira as a "human" – as Yagami Light…I admire him in this façade. What is this relationship? I dislike Kira, but admire Light. Is that it? If I win – No, when I win – how will I behave? Will I be happy to know that Kira's ways will be finally put to an end, but broken to watch Light's execution? _

Ryuzaki bit the tip of his finger.

_This is unhealthy. It must be._

_Loving him cannot be right._

_But, nevertheless…_

A sigh left him. He stood, but moved nowhere, instead turning his eyes to the handcuffs and shackles left atop the couch cushions. Images refused to dissipate from his mind, and visuals continued to replay. He could hear Light again, his moans and his glorious laughter.

_Why? Why do I insist on this?_

_Loving him…_

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - _

Revieww.

**L'Adore.**

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	10. X: Dominate

**A/N: **_Light takes over._

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**Chapter Ten: Dominate**

The suede chair wasn't entirely comfortable for the detective, but he wouldn't complain.

He couldn't, really.

He had anything and everything he wanted: a cart splaying an unfathomable multitude of desserts and sweet-treats, a whole pitcher of highly-sweetened tea, seemingly endless platters of vanilla-frosted cake… all of this and Yagami Light - Kira - in his presence. It was splendid, truthfully. Rarely was he able to share moments like this with his counterpart and adversary. He decided that he would delve into the moment, but not until after he took a minute to indulge himself in sweets.

Unkempt tresses of his black hair kept his wandering gaze hidden from the other man's sights, and he was able to peer up from the steaming liquid of his cup of tea, taking a moment to watch the man opposite from him; after all, for moments, he had been feeling another pair of eyes scrutinizing him - certainly the eyes of Kira. Truly, he wanted to meet Light's eyes to secure eye contact, but he decided against it. He would remain covert. He caught the sight of Light crossing his legs before he hastily cast his eyes downward in a quick loss of interest - and fear that he would be caught.

He tilted the mug towards his mouth. He swallowed a small sip of the warm fluid before lowering the cup to a white saucer, afterwards plucking up a small, animal-shaped sugar cookie. He bit off the head with an inquiring hum, and chewed on it slowly.

He licked his lips. "Mmm."

Acting in habit, Light adjusted the collar of his sleeved shirt, and his fingers drifted to the middle of his necktie, seeking to briefly fiddle with the garment - it was off-center. His wandering gaze lifted in time to watch the detective's pale hands prod at a second cookie, yet another one shaped in the form of an indistinct animal. The treat was forced to stand upright while being rotated about an invisible axis. Light let a grunt of discomfort escape him; the man was such a child. A sigh passed his lips.

"…Ryuzaki."

His voice caused him to peer upward. The cookie fell. "Hm?"

"You wanted to see me," inquiry hinted in his tone. He felt it was time to address the purpose of their "conference." After all, minutes of a scarce exchange of words had elapsed, and the two had simply dined in one another's presence. Light already presumed the future topic of conversation would revolve around the matter of their affairs. However, he would wait until Ryuzaki responded to his question before he jumped to any conclusions.

Still, he was confident he was right.

The detective nodded subtly. "Yes, that's correct, Yagami-kun. I wanted to speak with you." His fingers brought the cookie to his mouth. He spoke through his chewing, "…It's about our affairs. I'm sure you presumed."

Light smiled; he was not surprised. In a sense of interest, he leaned forward.

"What of them?"

"I'm sure you've been aware of what I'm about to tell you. In each of our interactions, Light, I have been the…" He lifted a hand to scratch his head in searching for the right word, his eyes rising up and aside. He twisted his lip. "…the _dominator_, so to speak. _I _have controlled _you_." He met Light's eyes. "How does this make you feel?"

Light's smile had faded. He leaned away. "I'm not bothered by it," he told him calmly. "I have been aware of that. However, when the time is right, perhaps the tides will change, so to speak." He smiled a bit, one of his shoulders pushing upward in a shrug. He beckoned with his hands in gesture. "And _I_ will control _you_."

"How fortunate." A pause. "…That time has come, Light-kun."

Light watched him with a squinted gaze. Question ghosted his studious visage.

That time had come? What could this mean? Of course, in such a tone of voice, it seemed as if the detective were alluding to a much romantic near-future; perhaps he was hinting towards the start of another one of their "interactions." Light almost smiled. He dared to conclude that Ryuzaki's statement, "That time has come," was a well made-up, last-minute excuse to engage in lovemaking. Nevertheless, Light he forced himself to remain composed. He straightened in his seat, his red-brown eyes kept focused on the man opposite of him.

Was this an excuse, or was Ryuzaki being sincere?

The detective was staring. He spoke. "Light-kun, I want _you_ to dominate," he put simply. "…I've wondered, 'What would Yagami Light do to me? What would _Kira_ do to me…?'" A trace of plea crossed his eyes. "I would like you to show me."

The flutter in Light's heart had become an engraved reaction, an impulse to whenever the detective asked him to perform in that murmured monotone – to whenever he was gently commanded to execute an unknown act of love, and continue on with it. But even so, Light had become so used to these daily questionings from Ryuzaki, these tender demands to engage himself in intimate interactions. They were routines now, and it seemed each day, their relationship would bloom a little more – although, neither one of them would dare admit such a thing. These affairs were so secret to the other agents. All of them were so unaware. Their relationship was racy, and if discovered or suspicious, it could easily become their end.

Light blinked from his thoughts and closed his eyes.

He found himself smiling.

He hated to admit; he felt _eager_.

His head gave a nod. "Of course, Ryuzaki-san," he felt his lips whisper.

He felt Kira depart from him, and Yagami Light was left to execute the detective's wish.

When his eyelids rose, eye contact was established between the two men. A sensation of willingness became fervent within the young agent as his hands pressed flat against the tabletop, and his lean form tilted forward at a gracious angle, until his face was close to the detective's. He was slow and flirtatious, slipping out his tongue to lick at the other man's pale cheek, to run the tip beneath his bottom lip and create a small trail of saliva by his chin.

Ryuzaki watched the younger man with a wide-eyed stare, and he stiffened at the feeling of his hot breath washing over his cool skin. Light smiled at him, then pressed his mouth to Ryuzaki's. His laughter was soft, but his lips were even softer. A deep hum of satisfaction dragged from his throat. His hand slid across the tabletop and grasped Ryuzaki's; the other hand played through a mane of black hair, and swept to the man's jaw.

"Mmmm."

The detective was not hesitant to kiss him back. He could taste the essence of tea on his lips - the variety of herbs and the delicate tang of sugar popped onto his tongue. He was sure Light, too, could taste the sugary flavors of his mouth. The young man moaned lowly, and set his hands on Ryuzaki's shoulders. He gave a gentle tug in his own direction, towards his suede chair. The detective lifted himself from his seat and stepped away, surrendering, to an extent, to let Light direct him. He listened to faint rustling as the young agent situated himself in his seat again. Ryuzaki found Light's lap to be his new place to settle in. He grew comfortable in little time, and such comfort acted as a stimulant to intensify their kiss.

He was moaning, "Uhnn'. Nn'mmm." He took a second to breathe. "Ohhh."

Ryuzaki was vaguely aware of how loud his hums of pleasure had grown, and how his panting had quickened to a faltering cadence. Light whined at him, moving his hands to the detective's sides, massaging and clawing into the thin fabric of a loose-fitting tee-shirt. In a slow exhale, he leaned back and broke the kiss as if fatigued. His chest heaved in the escalating passion, as did Ryuzaki's. However, the detective did not make eye contact with his counterpart, but instead lowered his eyes over the column of buttons scaling the center of Light's sleeved shirt. His pale hands moved towards the plastic fasteners and deliberately undid them, moving quick with expertise, although acting precisely - sharply with rhythm. Light seemed to surrender with a deep breath escaping him. He sunk into the suede chair and lay lax, shoulders dropping. Absentminded, he allowed the other man to unclothe his torso freely.

"Ohhh…"

His eyelids fluttered.

His own hands had grasped Ryuzaki's waistline and glided towards the very tops of his thighs. Eager fingers prodded towards his tempting erection, and he clutched tightly in almost desperation when a cold rush of wind washed over his bare chest - it was only his reaction to do so. Instantaneously, his nipples hardened to luscious points on his chest, and his grasp on Ryuzaki, again, grew tauter. He forced himself to shoot forward and clamp his mouth over the detective's before the man to continue any further. He remembered – this was _his_ turn. _He_ was to dominate, not Ryuzaki.

The thought sent anew fire coursing through him.

He moaned, "Mmmm."

The echo, "Uhnnn'."

In such a feeling, Light felt himself lose control. Ryuzaki slipped from his lap and collided on the floor, and he, too, fell from the chair. The small fall caused no pain to either one of them, and he was able to effortlessly disregard the incident, quick to shift into another move. He straddled Ryuzaki's waist. His hands lay on top of a pair of slender shoulders.

Ryuzaki could not escape.

At his own power, Light laughed.

The detective stared; he was pinned by Kira. He gazed up at Light with his dark eyes drawn wide in a sense of inquisition and maybe hopelessness, as if to wordlessly question the other man's doings. Light flashed a reassuring smile. One of his hands slipped away to lower the tiny zipper of Ryuzaki's unfitting pants, and the other aided in slipping the garment down. The detective started to strip himself of his tee-shirt, but Light stopped him with a small noise in his throat.

_He_ did the honor.

He lifted the hem of the shirt and pulled the thin tunic over the man's head. Both the pants and shirt were carelessly tossed aside – elsewhere, out of the way.

Ryuzaki stared upward.

He watched a shirtless Light lowered closer to him.

He shivered. He suddenly felt cold.

But, when Light's lips met his, an invisible surge of radiance seemed to flow through their kiss, harvesting between their lips. He felt himself grow warmer and avid for the man when he caught the masculine scent on his skin, pushing his tongue against another, tilting his head to eagerly invite the agent to delve into his mouth. Immediately, the kiss grew deeper.

Light moaned. "Mmmm."

His hands explored the detective's exposed body. One surveyed the flesh of his chest. His fingers touched at his hardening nipples and his palm sensed the powerful thumping of his ecstasy-driven heart, the tiny groove of his bellybutton, the subtle curve in his side, his throat and smooth collarbones. His other hand searched the lower portion of a pale body. It scaled the length of one leg before halting at the prize – the place between his thighs, his erection. Fingers were not hesitant to move into his underwear and caress the member slowly - lovingly.

The kiss was affected. It grew deeper, great with passion.

Their lips became moist in saliva. A chorus of noise escalated - wet kissing below the gentle vibration of low moans, sharp breaths and indistinct murmuring from indulging lips. Light cringed and let out a whimper. Flushing, he admitted to himself: This was not enough for him.

He craved more. He was hungry for Ryuzaki.

His hand tore at the other man's underwear and it, too, was tossed aside.

Their mouths were separated as Light looked over the detective's erection, and the air became full of their heavy breathing. Ryuzaki had not stopped; his hand had lifted to stroke the side of Light's face, to walk his fingers into a mane of beautiful brunette hair and fondle, or press the tips of his fingers into his cheekbones. Light looked at him with affection warming the red-brown hue of his eyes, but soon, his attention returned to the erection.

He wondered how to approach it.

The detective alluded in a tired whisper, "Your mouth, Light-kun."

A pause. The young man nodded once.

"…Yes," he murmured mechanically.

Absently, he was obeying the man's orders. He wondered, "Why?" Was it because denying such commands would not only rude, but they wouldn't make sense. He did have some sort of craving for the detective. Refusing to comply would only deepen his hunger – his desires. Agreeing was the only thing he could reside to if he wanted to fulfill his longings.

He planted a final kiss at Ryuzaki's cheek.

He didn't think he was making sense.

Was something else - a greater emotion, a greater _something_ - driving his actions?

He dismissed the inquiries for the time being. Light crawled in front of Ryuzaki's erection. On his hands and knees, he lowered to become eyelevel with the awaiting member, to size the image in his eyes and speculate. The detective's orders floated through his head again.

_"Your mouth…"_ they whispered.

In preparation, he licked his lips. A moan from the detective acted as the cue for him to move on, and he did so with little hesitation, parting his lips to fix his mouth over the head. For a moment, he kept there to endure whatever flavors blossomed onto his tongue, but the man's flesh was virtually flavorless - no, pure rather. The detective wished for his member to venture further; enough of savoring, he seemed to imply. His pale hands found the sides of Light's face and guided his lips downward. Tenderly, the member was forced deeper within his throat.

Light almost gagged.

He withdrew his mouth before scaling the erection again.

He was leaving quite a bit of the flesh uncovered.

Ryuzaki frowned at this. It would not suffice. "Deeper."

"Mmm," the soft hum of apology.

He moved his mouth a little lower.

His brow furrowed, eyebrows knitting. He had to gag, but he couldn't.

There was too much hunger within him, and pleasing the detective was key.

At one moment, he had nearly covered the entire member; he, truly, couldn't stop now. But, the task had become too difficult for him to proceed. He withdrew. He resided to using his tongue, to wriggling the tip of the salivating muscle against the flesh of the head, covering not only the front and top, but the sides as well. The detective moaned at his work, satisfied at such expertise. Light made eye contact. The stroking at the side of his face grew harder. Pale fingers began to delicately tug at strands of his hair.

His actions were working.

Ryuzaki was seduced.

A smile formed.

_Success._

His mouth returned over the head. With another moan escaping him, he sucked in small, quick motions before transitioning to slower pumps a moment later. He savored each inch of flesh with his tongue, never minding any accidental trickles of saliva that flowed from the corners of his mouth. The detective moaned again with his head back in forfeit, and he uttered yet another command in an airy, breathless tone.

"Deeper," he managed to say. "…All the way."

Light lifted his eyes.

Ryuzaki watched him. "I'm almost there."

Light blinked. He nodded.

The yearning in the detective's stare was only evident to the younger agent, and he could almost perceive a sense of desire, confidence, or was it motivation? Perhaps something more; he couldn't place a name to it. There was a multitude of emotions swirling through the detective. Light was not tentative to comply with the man's insist and further entice such sensations. His mouth, again, lifted to the head of the member, and he used one of his hands to hold the member at the base, to keep it steady while he acted. Absently, his tongue moved across the tip of the erection, and a billow of warm air exited his throat, washing over Ryuzaki's member. The man stiffened at the sensation – a tickling, teasing tongue and enveloping, hot breath. It was, nonetheless, stimulating.

Eroticism coursed through his systems in such a warmth, a fire that only these impassionate emotions could arise. His pale hand outstretched once again to rake its slender fingers through Light's brunette tresses. His other clawed into the carpet, as if such a futile action could suppress any of the sensations rushing through him.

He could only let a groan escape him, one that struck the atmosphere on a low, ethereal note. At last, he could feel Light proceeding. What the young man did was neither fast, nor exceedingly slow, but lax in some sort of fluid grace, yet precision, to say at the least. The detective felt his counterpart's soft, moistened lips slip downward, covering the entirety of his erection. His desiring lips and salivating tongue delighted in the essences of his flesh; Light moaned. Struggle ghosted his features.

"Nnn'!" The cue to Ryuzaki.

The detective's timing was prompt and perfect. When the head of his erection reached the depths of the young agent's throat, he tensed in such passion and sent out a prolonged groan into the air above him, a signal that his release was flowing. Light could surely taste the liquid within little time, and his reaction was to swallow the fluid. It tasted sweet, even a little salty. But, if anything, sugar was more apparent in the flavor.

With a exhale, Light withdrew.

"Ohhh…Ryuzaki-san."

His eyes were droopy. He ignored the trail of fluid scaling one side of his chin. Instead, he decided to clean the tip of the detective's erection with his tongue, consuming any traces of whitish liquid that had not been swallowed the first time. There was not much else for his tongue to lap and devour, but he was not disappointed. He had had his fill. His hunger had been tamed.

He whispered again, "Ryuzaki."

He looked up. The other man lay flat on his back, his chest heaving gently. Light lifted to all fours and slowly climbed on top of the detective's pale, slender form, smiling as he weaved his arms around the man's back. He lay on top of him. Ryuzaki, for moments, stared. He listened to Light's quiet laughter, the chuckles that delicately vibrated from his collarbones and reverberated in his throat. A minute passed before he mimicked the young man and encircled him, his stare widening further when more laughter sounded by his ear. Light kissed his cheek. Ryuzaki hugged him tighter.

Their embrace was secure.

It was almost as if two were becoming one, the detective noted. It was a cliché thing to wonder, but, truly, he could sense it. Light's heart beat furiously on top of his own; he could feel the young man's body warmth radiating from his body, the muscles of his abdomen working whenever he would shift or twist, his chest, too, working whenever he would take in an inhale or release an exhale.

Ryuzaki smiled, to himself.

_What was this relationship_, he wondered.

A hand slipped into his own. He grasped.

_Did he love Kira?_  
No. No, he didn't.

He loved _Yagami Light_.

But, he wouldn't tell him that.

He wondered - would he ever?

* * *

Leave a review.

**L'Adore.**


	11. XI: Water

**A/N: **_Shower-lovinnn'._

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Water**

The hallway was vacant; no one was here. The detective knew this to be true, but nevertheless he found himself glancing aside at least once a minute, as if he were caught up in some sort of paranoia. He acted as if someone were to inexplicably materialize out of thin air, or burst through a door. No, he was _sure_ that was impossible. The rest of the Task Force weren't even on the same floor. Incorrect, a voice stopped him.

All of the agents were flights below, but one.

One of them was in here…

He was not sure how long he had been staring at the bathroom door. He felt as if his wide-eyed stare had began to absorb the coat of white paint that covered the doorframe, or even the golden doorknob that did nothing but reflect the gentle illumination of the hallway, the lighting emitted from a few ceiling and wall lamps – an image of still life. He perceived sound from behind the door. Water rushed from a shower's faucet and the occasional scrubbing of a sponge against someone's flesh became audible, as well as an infrequent squeak of the shower floor as the person would step. Of course, it was obvious that someone was bathing, and that was not the mystery.

The question: _Who? Who was it?_

His presumption was to suspect Yagami Light; after all, he hadn't seen the young man for quite some time - it had been a couple hours, such time without seeing his face. The detective frowned. He wondered if Light even had a reason to avoid him, or if it was coincidence that they hadn't seen one another in that amount of time. Knowing Light, it would be no surprise if he had avoided Ryuzaki's sights and joined the rest of the Task Force downstairs. The detective pushed his thumb against his bottom lip. He thought again, "_Did Light truly have a reason to hide?_"

He answered himself with a small shake of his head.

No, not really.

His eyes wandered to that golden doorknob.

_Who was in here?_

The moment for clarity had come.

However, he wasn't so hasty. One of his pale hands rose to hover before the doorknob, and a slender finger outstretched as his mind wandered elsewhere - foreseeing, making assumptions. He knew he could be wrong. Suppose Yagami-kun was not the one inside? What if he happened to stumble upon someone else, like Vice Director Yagami Soichiro, for instance? He almost cringed.

Normally, he wasn't one to worry, and before he could second-guess any further, the doorknob rattled.

He flicked a quick glance at the doorframe.

Nothing. The shower still ran.

The scrubbing continued.

Ryuzaki grasped the doorknob; he supposed he had shaken it by accident. He turned his wrist clockwise to render his entry obtainable, and the door moved ajar. Instantly, a billow of humid water vapor washed over him. The light of the bathroom was dimmed due to a couple burnt-out bulbs, and he noticed a folded collection of clothes resting atop the counters on either side of the sink. He closed the door silently before slipping over to the garments, taking them between his delicate thumb and index fingers, as if not wanting to contaminate the clothing. He let them fall unfolded in front of him. He noted the inventory: a white, collared shirt with a red tie, khaki pants and accompanying chestnut-brown dress shoes...

He smiled.

These clothes.

This _outfit_.

He had _seen_ them.

It was Light's apparel.

Ryuzaki returned the clothes to the countertop. He twisted himself only enough to catch a glimpse of the shower, instead finding himself gazing at a deep-green shower curtain, one with golden hooks. He noticed clouds of steam rising from the top of the curtain, and he could swear he saw a hand lift to extend amongst the mist as if the person were stretching. The image was enough to encourage his curiosity, and he was led to believe that Yagami Light was behind that shower curtain - _showering_. Desire already coursed through him. He stepped forward. His thumb prodded at his bottom lip again; it glided against his teeth, becoming sporadically gnawed on as he grew hungry for Light's image. Eagerness welled up within him, and his mind began to race. Image after image generated and materialized – pictures of a wet, bathing Yagami Light.

He forced a sound of pleasure to die in his throat. He had to remain quiet.

However, he used his fervent thoughts as a stimulator that provoked his hand to hold a section of the shower curtain. He withdrew the curtain aside and awaited glorious revelation with a round stare - it took little time for him to locate such a beauteous man. There he was.

Such beauty, as always in the detective's eyes, was near-unfathomable. That physique, he avowed, had to be hand-crafted by the most royal of the Gods; those broad shoulders that gave way to a picturesque array of flawlessly carved back-muscles, two well-built legs heightening his lean form, his backside and rear – all, perfect. The water streaming the length of his spine, flowing along his legs, only made the sight greater. Light leaned his head to one side to allow warm liquid to scale his neck, indifferent towards his hair becoming wet by the rushing water. He lifted the sponge against his stomach before moving it to his side. Soap suds formed on his smooth flesh, but the water was quick to wash it away.

The detective was captivated.

It was fortunate the young man had his back facing Ryuzaki, but soon, that was no longer an excuse for Ryuzaki's prolonged gawking. Light caught his counterpart in his peripheral, and his own stare rounded in alarm. He flushed on instinct, but only recoiled slightly.

He blinked. "Ryuzaki?!" his whisper was sharp in demand.

The detective stared.

He lowered his thumb from his mouth as if about to speak, but the agent spoke again.

"…How long have you been there?" His eyes were blazing with intent.

"Not long at all," he murmured in monotone. "…I couldn't find you. I was getting worried."

He moved. One of his pale feet stepped onto the slickened shower floor, and the second was not hesitant to mimic. His outlook was careless to the water that contacted him and sought to drench his loose-fitting garments, rendering his clothes clung to his slender form. He fixed his wide eyes on a pair of intent, demanding red-brown, never minding the yearning and desperation that ghosted his own pale face.

Light, to much surprise, remained still. He did not step away when the other man approached his unclothed backside, never flinching when a pair of cool hands found way to his sides and glided upward, skimming the surface of his flesh. Light forced himself to remain as composed as possible when the man began to explore his body, and he leaned back in a sense of relaxation.

He bit his lower lip. "Mmm."

The detective supported him. Purring indistinct words, he fluttered his lips along the space between Light's shoulder blades; the sensation was stirring, and sent gentle vibrations shivering through the man's system. The brunette let his head drop to one side and his eyelids lowered. He breathed out. Water gushed against his neck, and the other man's lips did not waste a moment with uncertainty. They, instantly, glided to the nape of his neck to taste his drenched skin, his tongue peeping out in almost a shy manner to lap at him.

"Ohhh," the detective moaned. "Uhnn."

Ryuzaki felt himself gnawing - gently, but nevertheless. He moaned louder, "Uhnn'," and bit harder. He sensed the young agent's body shudder and heard a quavering moan depart from his throat. Light nearly became weak on his feet. His red-brown eyes were exposed when his eyelids rose. He breathed out deeply and leaned against the shower wall. Slowly, he gave in a little more to the other man's touch. His head leaned back to fall against his shoulder, and again he shuddered.

"Ohh," his moan was short, yet full of passion.

With a hand to keep him steady, Ryuzaki moved himself in front of Light. His arms slipped around his waist to ease him against him, and one hand traveled up the length of his side, his fingers exploring each bit of flesh within reach.

"You're not so reluctant this time," he noted softly. "…Why not?"

Light made eye contact. His cheeks had flushed deeper. "I have no reason to be."

The detective stared.

This behavior was inexplicably awkward; it was the second time Light had behaved this way, the previous time being the prior evening, when Light was instructed to dominate their affair. He remembered that night, how the agent had so fervently worked on him with expertise with his hands and lips, how he had embraced him once all had calmed - he remembered that final kiss on his cheek. He dared to conclude that he was creating a break-through. But, _all_ ends of the spectrum had to be considered. The impossible was a part of that. He thought, "Was Light becoming more open to the idea of having a relationship with his adversary, or was it…"

He looked somewhere else.

_What else could it be?_

The next move could practically prove his suspicions.

With a slight tilt of his head and lick of his lips, Light gathered the other man's mouth in a gentle kiss. The rising water vapor had moistened his lips and made them soft, as well as damp. He smiled inwardly as he spurred a groan from his counterpart as one of his hands slipped up the back of Ryuzaki's soaked tee-shirt whilst the second scaled a side of his neck, both sets of fingers quivering as ecstasy pulsed through his veins. Together, they moaned, and such sounds only escalated. The detective kissed deeper when Light breathed into him, and he found himself gasping for a breath. He took in the agent's scent and the accompanying aroma of bathing soap – rich, masculine, seductive. All the while, his round eyes did not avert from the young man, partially hidden behind matted strands of wild, black hair.

Light failed to lock a steady stare. His eyelids fluttered and fell shut, ghosting a sense of serenity over his handsome face. In spite of the serenity, his impassion was evident. Ryuzaki moved a hand to the back of Light's neck, seeking to grasp a tender fistful of brunette locks. His fingers raked through the soaked tresses, and he hummed in pleasure at the feeling of his wet hair slipped effortlessly between his fingers. His other hand, however, was more risqué; it lowered to the young man's member. Fingers swept beneath it to cradle lovingly, to thumb the flesh. Light mimicked. His own hand moved towards the detective's member. He stroked the area of his crotch, his inner thighs and the hard bone of his pelvis, fondling in curiosity as well as yearning.

Together, their moans echoed amongst the space of the shower.

As if rendered lightheaded from the other man's touch, Light felt himself lose balance. Beneath his foot, the slickened floor had grown inadequate for him to maintain the proper equilibrium. He slipped, but was quick to stop his fall by leaning into the shower wall. A small gasp hiccupped from his throat; the detective's hand had grasped his shoulder. Light lifted his eyes to him. He laughed, gloriously, at his fumble.

Ryuzaki could barely smile back. He helped his counterpart to the shower floor, and his mouth moved to Light's as if refusing to let their kiss die for more than a minute. As Light lowered, he followed, crouching. Water pelted against his backside and further soaked the thin fabric of his plain tee-shirt. Light's hands had cradled his face. He kissed deeper and parted his lips, inviting whatever droplets of water fall inside as well as Ryuzaki's explorative tongue.

He slurped quietly, and breathed outward. "Ohh. Nn'mmm."

The other man echoed.

Light fell back. He lay on the shower floor.

Through water-obscured vision and matted strands of hair, he made an attempt to peer up at the detective. He could only depict the pale tone of his complexion, his untamed mane and two round, dark eyes. A small moan left him with a breath, a noise as if to order the man to come near. Ryuzaki rose to his hands and knees. He was wordless and went about his actions, widening his legs to straddle the young agent's waist. Both of his hands rested at Light's sides, and his mouth lowered. His lips moved over his stomach, purring into such firm abdominal muscle and the groove of his bellybutton.

Light's laughter rose; chills shuddered through the detective at the low, playful sound. His round eyes caught sight of something - Light's hand. The young man started to pump himself. Light whimpered at the shower ceiling and his head fell back. Admittedly, his own touch was stimulating. His fingers trembled. He surrendered to himself, just as he had during their one affair via monitor connection.

The detective's mouth worked harder.

Desire jarred him.

He suddenly wanted himself inside Light.

He cringed at his craving.

It had been too long.

He felt his lips move. He whispered, "Light-kun…"

He was absentminded. He felt his hands float to the crotch of his loose-fitting pants, and his fingers shook in a combination of enthusiasm and hunger, although he questioned the fervent emotions gushing through him. He couldn't understand the sudden longing for more of his counterpart, why his hand twitched in eagerness as he weaved the buttons of his pants undone and slipped down the zipper. Why were Light's moans fuel for him, provoking sounds that compelled him to go on?

He forced his pants down. His pale legs became exposed to the moist atmosphere of the shower, and Light reached a hand to touch him. The detective went on, slipping off his underwear. He tossed the garment towards the shower drain. He prepared gently, clutching the young man's sides whilst propping upward. He found red-brown eyes. Plea hinted through their warming hue; such plea the detective could not deny.

"Light…"

He couldn't help himself. He leaned forward to kiss the agent's thigh, and did the honor in separating his legs until the entrance became visible to his stare. He whispered again, "Light-kun," as the head of his erection set between the young man's legs. He was ready.

Light moaned up at him, his chest heaving. "I want to…" he mustered. "_Feel_ you…Ryuzaki-san. Please."

The detective did not nod. He didn't have to.

He would go on.

It, truly, had been too long.

He murmured back in monotone, "And I, you…Light-kun."

And slowly, his erection eased forth. It forced itself beyond the outer ring of Light's entrance to penetrate somewhere deep inside him, to momentarily access the young man's entrance before any further action was induced. The detective let out a groan of slight struggle and withdrew the head to where it had made entry, all before he pumped in even thrusts. His pale hands struggled to maintain a firm hold of Light's moistened legs as the pouring water continued to weaken his grasp, but nevertheless, he went on. The water would be ignored.

In aid, Light parted his legs as wide as the shower's space would allow, until one of his thighs rubbed against the shower wall and the other grazed the curtain. With each thrust, he let out a sound. And with each sound, Ryuzaki worked harder, sharper, faster, and more precise. He grunted and moved his pelvis in quicker bursts, using the water as a natural lubricant. He sought to strike that one place within Light, the one spot deep within him that would spur his release. He flicked hair from his eyes to see Light.

"Uhnn'. Ohh…"

The young man's drastic panting had become blatant. One would assume that he was fatigued by such passion, when truly he craved more. A great sense of ecstasy had cultivated within him, like a pressure in his chest or a fire rushing through his system. His hands scraped at the shower floor. His whines merged with fervent moans; each one of them was beautiful in the detective's ears. Ryuzaki echoed him.

Light swallowed before gasping for a breath. "Mmm. Nnn'…H-Harder."

The detective watched him. Surprise flickered. "N-Now?"

He nodded quickly. "Yes." A pause. "Go…all the way. I'm ready."

Light's wish would be promptly executed.

"Yes."

Despite the fact that his systems longed for a mere moment to regain its strength, Ryuzaki forced himself to ignore such self-centered desires, and he pushed himself deep within the agent. He eased into him until he was sure he had pierced that one spot, and in desperation he searched Light's flushed visage for a much awaited reaction. Light cried out in a prolonged moan; his impassionate moans escalated, floating upward like the billows of vapor above the shower curtain.

The detective felt himself shaking. It was instinct for him to fling himself on top of Light and clutch his flesh. The warmth of his own erection had become unbearable, as did the need to release the ferventness boiling inside him. He pressed the side of his face against Light's chest. A moan tumbled from his throat in passion. Liquid rushed from his member, and he felt warm, viscid liquid run down his stomach – this was Light's release. Beneath his ear, Ryuzaki listened to the agent cry out. The detective's release had surged into Light's entrance.

His heart hammered.

"Uhh…Nnn'."

He gasped for a breath.

"Light-kun."

Light heaved for air. Ryuzaki looked up to the young man's face; he met a pair of red-brown eyes staring back. He watched Light's lips mouth an indistinct phrase. The detective forced himself to disregard it for now. As if afraid to let their affection fade, he shot up to lock their mouths. The kiss became passionate within the time of a meager moment, as if this affair were their last one. Moaning, Light embraced the other man. They conformed as one. Their legs entwined and their bodies eased into one another. Light's lips found Ryuzaki's cheek, and held there.

For a minute, he didn't want to let go.

For a minute, Yagami Light loved Ryuzaki.

* * *

Review!

**L'Adore.**


	12. XII: Unforeseen

**A/N: **_Things take a turn._

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: Unforeseen **

With one hand lifted to cover a small yawn, Light used his second to lower and secure the screen of his laptop computer before he propped his elbow against the tabletop, cradling his cheek in his palm. Fatigue had rendered his wearied stare heavy - like a pair of droopy almonds on his face - and he looked to the man at the opposite end of the table. He frowned as his counterpart insisted on indulging himself in a seemingly multitude of sugar-loaded treats; a whole host of cookies, steaming tea kept hot in a thermos, slices of cake and pie. Light scowled in some sort of disgust, and then set both of his hands on the table to rise from his chair. He stretched and took a glance at his watch.

"Hm'. It's just after three in the morning, Ryuzaki," he announced tiredly. He stepped from the tableside. "I'll be turning in now."

The detective flicked his round eyes upward, diverting his attention from a small heap of papers - various files and documents concerning specific details of the Kira case. He pushed the papers closer to him. His thumb eased into his mouth, and he sucked away sugar crystals that had stuck to the tip. "Hmm?"

Light moved a hand through his hair. He wouldn't repeat himself. "I'm sure you can finish decoding whatever's left of the paperwork, and make sense of it," he told him with a smile. "Isn't that true?"

Ryuzaki said no reply. He watched his counterpart stride towards the bed. However, he was guilty; his eyes were not at the young man's face. The tip of his thumb glided side-to-side against his bottom row of teeth as his absorbent stare studied how Light's lean stature swayed in his elegant strides, how he looked so remarkable in such a blasé attire of loose-fitting clothes - a white tee-shirt and dark, flannel pants. The detective, absently, took another cookie between his fingers and brought the treat to his mouth, chewing in a slow, deliberate manner, as if he were to savor each crumb when he was truly gawking at the other agent.

"Mmmm…" He licked his lips.

Light reached the bedside. He paused, and his hands gripped the hem of his shirt to pull it over his head. His fingers were meticulous in the way they folded the tunic so precisely - almost rhythmically - as if he had done this many times before. His bare torso looked glorious in the room's delicate, dimmed illumination, and like all of the times prior, his muscles appeared hand-crafted by someone greater than the most professional of artists - forbid they be a God of Sex themself.

The detective forced his eyes to avert. He almost shook his head, sickened by the lust he had surrendered to. He listened to the bed sheets rustle as Light pulled himself against the mattress, releasing another small yawn in the process. Despite the fact that he diffused a lamp at the end table beside him, there was still plenty of light at the detective's spot in the room. His wandering eyes found the other man's resting form; he could nearly make out the subtle rises and falls of his chest as he breathed.

Desires got the best of him. He suddenly wanted to speak with Light again, or did he want to do more…Nonetheless, his pale hands pushed aside the various platters and saucers of desserts to gather the documents in his fingers. He stacked them into a neat pile and set them out-of-the-way, then stood to tend to his dishes. He would work quickly to clean up. The urge to be close to Light irked him.

.xXx.

The last light was diffused. Ryuzaki shuffled to the bedside.

The only source of illumination emitted from one panoramic window; it allowed the moon's light to enter and wash over the flooring. In such lighting, Ryuzaki's pale visage only seemed increasingly drained of its tone, his skin never looking quite snow white, although ranging somewhere in that realm of color. His round, dark eyes had fixed a peculiar stare on the sleeping man whose form had found comfort beneath the bed sheets and had rendered his conscious transfixed among his dreams. Such round eyes studied him, in spite of how the man was sleeping with his back turned. Fortunately, Light was neither lying in the middle of the mattress nor between the pillows, but on the side farthest from the detective. And because of this, Ryuzaki could easily slip beneath the covers and get next to him if he acted cautiously.

One of his hands reached out to gather a small bundle of the sheets while the other eased against a pillow for support; the entire time, his eyes watched his sleeping counterpart. Light stirred when a waft of cool air swept over him, and he instinctively curled inward to house his body warmth. During this move, the detective did not pause or slow down, but acted quicker. In mere seconds, he slipped against the mattress and extended beneath powder-scented, linen bed sheets - his face, of course, facing Light.

He felt his breath hitch as the young man turned to face him, though still asleep. Ryuzaki dared to ease himself further within the sphere of Light's personal aura, and even became a little more of a risk taker, searching for the agent's hand underneath the sheets. It didn't take long. His fingers were successful in grazing the young man's forearm, and he was tender when entwining their fingers. Light gave a soft hum as his brow furrowed in gentle questioning, and his hand squeezed in an instinctive response.

His lips moved, and whispered, "Misa?"

The detective smiled. He could no longer respect the agent's slumber; he succumbed to his desires, again. He shifted closer and gathered Light's lips into a kiss.

He groaned, "Mmm."

Ryuzaki eased himself into Light's chest. His stare lifted to catch sight of the man's slumber-ghosted face; his own face tilted aside. He caught the scent of bathing soap and an aroma of oils floating from his bare chest, and such masculine fragrances provoked him to plant kisses against his flesh. He used his tongue to further savor, to truly taste the aromas lingering on his skin; the essence - such a delicious blend of flavors proved to be sensational in his mouth. At the man's licking, Light stirred and turned onto his back. He mumbled indistinct words, and one sounded like, "Stop."

Ryuzaki became frozen for a moment of captivation, but soon cut his stare short. He lifted himself onto his hands and knees and proceeded to straddle his counterpart's waistline, to gently descend on top of his lean, supportive frame and embrace his neck. Light let a louder noise of objection tumble from his throat, and his head turned away. Wisps of his brunette hair swept in arches across his forehead.

His brow knitted. "Mmmm…No."

Ryuzaki made sure to be wary, and to work under the assumption that Light would wake any moment now. Nevertheless, he had to make use of whatever time he had. He met Light's lips with a soft moan, and soon his mouth pressed deeper, kissing passionately. He used fervent hands explored the man's smooth throat. His palms glided atop his skin, skimming, floating to the upper regions of his chest and to his stomach. His round eyes gawked at the serenity illustrated in Light's visage, but such a tranquil complexion soon became hardened by perplexity and objection.

Light grunted. His eyelids fluttered to reveal a pair of questioning, intent red-brown eyes. They found two slate-gray eyes gawking and he felt another mouth press into his own. He perked upright with a gasp. His cheeks flushed. Still, there was not a trace of anger on his face.

His quiet voice only stammered. "Ry-Ryuzaki."

The detective silenced him with another kiss. As he kissed him, his round eyes looked down to his hands, and he watched his fingers stretch out to touch Light's bare chest. He didn't press into his skin, but traced his fingers around the shape of his perfect pectoral muscles. They swept to the crafted folds of muscle at his abdomen. His entire torso was outlined…Ryuzaki's fingers quivered when he felt the muscles tense or move beneath his touch, and Light succumbed - he leaned forward and kissed harder.

The detective, however, ended the kiss to situate his face in front of Light's chest. He licked his lips before moving them at the center and worked upward - slowly, deliberately in his mouth's meticulous lovemaking. He licked and kissed; he indulged himself in Light's taste. The vibrations of Light's low moans rattled his lips in very tender reverberations, but his mouth managed to arrive at the base of the man's throat. Light's arms moved around Ryuzaki's slender waist and eased him close. Ryuzaki raised one of his hands to touch the other man's hair and cheek, his jawline and chin. He stroked.

"Light-kun…" He kissed his collar.

Light smiled. His hands held onto the detective's sides and guided him onto his back, to pin him to the mattress. His hands redirected to his flannel pants. His fingers worked at pulling them down before he set them aside. He seemed as if he were to remove his underwear, yet he only tantalized. His laughter was seductive as fingers teased his underwear's elastic band, his smile brightening and stressing the passion in his face. Light propped onto his knees. He leaned forward to lock his lips with Ryuzaki.

However, the kiss was declined.

Ryuzaki turned his face aside. One of his hands beckoned to Light's underwear, and he lifted his round eyes upward; he would not continue until.

"…Remove it," he whispered. "Please."

At the detective's denial to the kiss, Light made a small sound in his throat, his eyes widening for a second of confusion. He dismissed his alarm quickly and obeyed, straightening a little to aid the garment's removal. He turned his eyes sideways to watch the clothing slip off the bedside, and caught the sound of rustling bed sheets. The sound forced him to glance back, to watch the pale detective push his own clothes far beneath the covers, as if in attempt to conceal them amongst the shadows. His large eyes met Light with a wordless stare, perhaps searching his face for some sort of answer.

Both of them, unclothed, longing for intimacy.

Light smiled. "Come here…"

He moved beside the other man with a widening grin, and his arms slipped out to embrace the detective, to pull him close. Their unclothed bodies touched, and the sensation was stimulating. Ryuzaki was provoked to not only smile, but kiss Light on the lips - hungrily. Light made a satisfied moan. One of his hands had snuck to the back of Ryuzaki's neck and his fingers outstretched to let strands of black hair entwine. He laughed inwardly. His eyes flickered with something playful, something alluding. He rolled the other man onto his back and lied down on top of him, weaving his arms around his neck, kissing harder. Their bodies pressed into one another; their hearts thrummed as one.

"Mmm. Ohh.," he hummed. He gasped for a breath. "Uhnn. Nn'mmm."

The detective, too, laughed a little, and angled his head. Their mouths clamped, and their tongues proceeded to adore the other in an act of hunger. Each man's panting grew heavier whenever desperation for oxygen would grow unbearable, or whenever their lovemaking became exceedingly vivacious. Light's kissing became smothering as he pecked against the detective's mouth over and over, kissing against his cheek and jawline, even his chin. Traces of saliva smudged on Ryuzaki's cheek.

The detective felt compelled to let his hand cradle the young man's member, and he did so, slipping his hand beneath Light's body to feel for the becoming erection. Once located, his fingers were gentle and careful in the way they stroked, gliding across the flesh before holding it in a secure, affection hold. Light uttered a small whine by the man's ear as a fingertip thumbed over the head of his member; a tickling, though erotic sensation was spurred.

For a moment, Light pressed himself further into the other man, but the hold on his member only grew tighter. He forced himself to relax, his back arching upward to help the other man stroke with greater ease. Low noises escaped him, and he listened to his voice coo in pleasure.

"Uhnn'. Mmm, Ryuzaki-san," he purred. "Ohhh. Yes."

Heat had begun to attack him.

The detective pumped him in a slowly-increasing cadence. The member was gradually warming against the palm of his hand, perhaps even throbbing within his rousing hold. He listened. The sound of Light's moans escalated and richened the atmosphere with a heavier sense of eroticism, nevertheless destroying any hints of silence that had once tried to permeate the room. The detective lifted upward, and his mouth found the other. A small moan was the noise in reply.

"Mmmm," they said together.

Light moved a hand to the detective's backside, fingers outstretching in a fervent wanting to enter and fondle…

But, unexpectedly, Ryuzaki recoiled in objection.

The kiss was broken.

He grunted with opposition and with a seemingly tired sigh, he straightened upright. His dark eyes met his lover's unmistakable red-brown. He watched them round in a sort of wordless pain and confusion, staring at him with a wide, unblinking demand.

The detective slipped one of his hands over Light's.

He murmured, "Light-kun. I'm sorry."

"…I don't understand. You stopped." Light's brow furrowed softly. "What's wrong?"

Ryuzaki glanced aside.

Remorse settled.

His eyes fell over a stack of papers resting atop a table; the same papers he had been examining as Light had gone to bed, and the same table he had dined at less than an hour ago. His hand moved from Light's as he looked back to him. Light's breathing wavered as he sensed a trace of sorrow in the man's gaze, and his heart fluttered when he heard him whisper, "Forgive me…I've won."

* * *

Whoo-hoo for confusing cliffhangers. xD

**L'Adore.**


	13. XIII: Revelation

**A/N: **_Hmm'. Things take another turn._

_This chapter is a continuation of Chapter 12._

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: Revelation**

Hearing such words, Light did not know how to react; in reality, his mind was still perplexed over what the detective was trying to imply, and why the man appeared to be so saddened by _something_ – something he was yet to know. For only a second, Light's unsure voice stammered, but he hushed instantaneously as Ryuzaki slid across the mattress and moved away from him, using one of his hands to pull his clothes from their tucked place beneath the bed sheets. He sat at the edge of the bad with his back to Light, his round eyes watching his own hands dress his pale form.

He rose. He reached for a folded garment lying on top of the end table, clutching it before he gently tossed it in Light's direction.

"Here."

The young agent did so little, flinching as the clothing impacted him. He took the garment in his hands - a white, cotton robe. He spread it across his lap, too captured by the moment to slip it on. His red-brown eyes remained on the other man and trailed his shuffled strides as he moved to a table, the table they had worked at before turning in. He watched Ryuzaki lift his hands to take the stack of papers, slowly.

He dared to inquire. "Ryuzaki-san," he whispered. "What is it?"

There was no response. All was silent.

Although the detective's hair shielded the side of his face, it was clear that his eyes were cast downward and fixed on nothing else, but the papers in his pale hands. In such tense quietude, Light's heart had become erratic. His mind commanded him to relax, but that was truly out of the question. His own eyes had fallen over those papers, as if he could somehow depict the text from the distance. He squinted, though his attempt to see was futile.

At last, there was movement from the detective. His face turned in Light's direction, and again his stare was heavy with seemingly remorse. He was slow to advance his counterpart, the papers low at his side. Once at the bedside, he sat on top of the mattress and slid to Light's side. He placed the papers between them, and his eyes fell.

"…Read this, Light-kun," his voice was low.

Light's eyes, still wide, squinted at the detective's order. He gaze settled over the papers, and his hand made a gentle sweep beneath them, taking hold and bringing the pile in front of his face. He scanned the first document; it was entitled with one bolded word, "Kira."

_What was this? _

His grasp became weakened by his sweat, and his fingers only trembled when he tried to hold the papers tighter. He moved his face a little closer. Perplexity was gradually overpowered by a sense of misunderstanding, so it seemed, and a small breath escaped him. He began to shake his head, and then fumble for the next document, again and again. The papers were all written in different words with different scenarios, but nevertheless, the message was the same. The words merged on the page as a sense of rage escalated within him, as he tossed a page aside to read the one beneath it.

Again, the message was the same.

_Kira's end._

The word "no" left his lips in no voice at all. He lifted his eyes to the detective.

His wide-eyed, confused stare was more. Innocence had disappeared.

Anger had taken over.

He clutched the papers. They crumbled slightly. "…You _bastard_."

Ryuzaki did not look at him.

Now, Kira knew of his defeat; the deed was done.

The documents contained information in the form of many different things. For instance, the text documented those judged by Kira: their names and the dates of death, who they were and the wrongdoings they had committed – why they were labeled as an undesirable for Kira's "Utopia." There was information about why Ryuzaki had suspected Light to be Kira for long, and how even some of the other agents of the Task Force had begun to suspect him as well. In truth, the detective had not wished to show Light the documents during this particular evening, but the obligation had burdened him; his conscience had reprimanded him for procrastinating. He felt as if he had no choice.

Remorse became heavy in his eyes, and with this weighted stare, he looked to Light. The young man's stare was callous, but Ryuzaki was well are of this face - this was _Kira_ staring at him, not his Yagami-kun.

He waited a moment before speaking. "…I never wished to."

There came a stammer. "You're lying." Light leaned forward. "If it was so against your will, then why did you? Why are you showing me this now?" The papers rustled.

"Those documents have been kept confidential. I couldn't hide them any longer. It was wrong. I was trying to, I admit, evade the condemnation of Yagami-kun, which is to say I was extending Kira's reign of righteous judgment. Though I do not want to lose him, Kira - he cannot - "

Light scowled, and cut him short with a sharp beckoning from his hand. "Who else did you tell? Who else did you show these documents to?!" He lowered the papers roughly. He quieted. "…I assume you told them."

There was a pause. Slowly, Ryuzaki shook his head. "I have told no one, and none of them shall ever know for some time." His hand rested on Light's and held tenderly. "You may not believe this, Yagami-kun, and I have doubts that you will, but there is, in fact, a part of me that laments. For some time, I was distraught, needless to say depressed." A pause. "I didn't want to do this."

The young man frowned. He whispered, barely, "…Then, why did you?"

"Because, Light-kun, not only had I discovered Kira righteously, but I could not let his supremacy persist. Our battle of wits had ended. Do you not remember what we told one another? We were to play this game: 'L vs. Kira...'"

***

_"We'll play the game - L vs. Kira…" L had announced with a smile. "Yes…No one will know that I already know who Kira us. No one will know about this discussion or situation either. Until I can think of a way to defeat you, Kira – righteously - you and I will be stuck in this game."_

***

The detective touched the papers. "…These documents are proof of my triumph."

Light's gaze had fallen over the papers, and absently, he brought the documents to his lap, releasing them. Disbelief ghosted his face; the fire of Kira in his eyes had settled to a mere hue of warmth at the base of his stare. A noise broke in his throat. He swallowed it away. "…I had it planned, Ryuzaki," he murmured. "A new world…" His voice faded, though he mustered, "It's ruined."

The detective frowned. The distress in Yagami-kun's voice spurred sympathy, though he could not feel apologetic for ending Kira's dream; it was the distress. Tentative and unsure, his arms slipped themselves around the young man's waist to draw him near. He rested his head against the warmth of Light's chest, and he pushed his cheek deep into him in a gesture to splay his remorse. Light's arms, however, were idle at his sides, and he did not even attempt to return to the detective's affectionate hold; his head fell to one side, as if he were emotionless. Though, in his peripheral, he watched a pair of round eyes scrutinize his face, and a pair of lips perked up to kiss the underside of his chin before tasting the length of his throat. Light looked at him slowly, a moan leaving him. His brow furrowed.

"I don't understand why you're so sad," he whispered. "You've won."

The detective shook his head. "Light-kun, one of these days, I will have no choice. I will have to tell the other agents of your alias. You know that." He paused, as if struggling. "And once I do, you will be arrested and taken to prison. And there…" He paused a second time. "You will die." He held tighter. "…There will be no more Kira. No more Yagami-kun."

Light looked away. He choked.

The detective moved his face closer. "If anything, Light-kun, understand this." He held him tighter. "I only want _Kira_ to end, not Yagami Light."

Light stared at him.

He went on. "Why…I wish – If only I there was a _way_. If only I could separate those two façades of yours. If only I possessed some sort of power that could allow me to take 'Kira' and mold him into a separate human being - let _him_ be the one to die, not Yagami-kun." Remorse was heavy in his eyes again. He moved even closer and set a hand on Light's chest. His fingers traced, negligent. "But, no. In truth, I cannot do that, and you both are one. You are the same human. And that is unfortunate." His arms embraced tighter. "…I hate that. I want Yagami Light to stay." He kissed his cheek. "Life without him seems unbearable. I've grown so fond of his presence."

Light felt his heart flutter. He had had speculations of the detective's fondness towards him, though he never wholly acknowledged the man's affection; admittedly, he had been so blind to the true passion that served as the foundation of their relationship. He had always been too analytical, always trying to figure out how the man operated under different, unusual poses and gracious positions, when he was forced to perform beneath upsurging passion, pleasure, or pain... But, Light wondered. Could he say the same? Was he, too, saddened? Would he miss Ryuzaki? The thought caused air to hitch in his throat. He couldn't say. He was unsure. How was he supposed to react?

At once, a breath - sharp - escaped him. He threw his arms around Ryuzaki. His hand clutched the back of his shoulder, and his fingers clawed towards his spine. He pressed his fingers into his skin and glided across the surface of his flesh, shaking. His eyes were not on Ryuzaki, but elsewhere. They closed.

"…I understand," he put simply. "I never…realized. I was oblivious..."

The detective shook his head to dismiss such nonsense, or was it to choke back anguish? He buried his face against the crook of Light's neck and inhaled deeply to catch the man's scent. Subsequently, he held him tighter. "Stop apologizing," he almost muttered. "Yagami-kun, it isn't your fault."

Light grunted. His voice was muffled. "When will you tell them?"

Hesitation. "In a few days, I've decided." He looked up.

Still, Light stared ahead. He nodded barely. His eyes were strewn with liquid.

"…Our time together is ending," he announced drearily.

The detective watched his counterpart's complexion for moments without a word. He could sense a sort of mourning lingering in Light's tone of voice. It was evident. He dared presume that the young agent was becoming saddened by the fact that, yes, these affairs would be their last. No, Yagami-kun was saddened. His misery was no act. Yagami Light's sorrow was sincere, but of course, Kira, on the other hand, was enraged, though such rage, right now, was hidden. Ryuzaki moved himself closer to the other man with a struggled nod, his dark eyes turning away. His head fell to Light's chest.

"…Yes. It is."

He felt Light tense at the word, and again the man choked. He felt his hands shake, and another sound broke in Light's throat – something between a moan and a choked cry, a noise mixed with frustration and remorse, anger and sorrow. Light was quick to lean downward and set his face close to other man's, his lips soon gathering the detective's mouth. The kiss was rough with the fervor welled within him, and it became deeper when Light eased forward. In turn, Ryuzaki's pale arms embraced tighter; the two men conformed. With a broken moan, Light held the other man against him, as if he would never let him go. The detective understood such grief, and in sympathy, he kissed harder. But soon, his lips pulled away. He licked them to once more taste the young man's lingering essence, and then sighed.

"Light-kun," he whispered. "Forgive me."

Light shook his head with a small hum, and he sought to kiss him again. His eager lips planted furious kisses along the man's cheekbones and temples, arching downward in a tender sweep to his jawline. He was quick and random, unthinking. His tongue peeked out, occasionally, to taste the flavors on his skin. When his lips found the corner of the detective's mouth, he pulled away and stared, his red-brown eyes forming into such droopy, almond-shaped marvels on his face. His breathing was quiet, though wavering, and he slowly shook his head.

"Ryuzaki-san, we shouldn't be so sad. Not yet," he said softly. "We still have days..."

_Time is short_, the detective thought. _The days will feel like minutes_.

But, he wouldn't tell him that.

Instead, actually, he didn't say anything in reply, but remained wordless as he brought his pale hands to the tops of Light's shoulders, pushing down on the hard bone to render the young man flat on his back. Hopeless red-brown eyes gawked up into his complexion, bearing soulful holes into the very fabric of his being; Ryuzaki nearly winced at such emotional pain, but he was provoked him to lock lips with the young agent. He tasted every corner of his mouth, each of the contours of his lips; his tongue was hungry to enter.

Light uttered a small grunt beneath the other man's passionate kiss. A shaking breath escaped his throat when one of the detective's cool hands scaled the length of his side with such profound grace. His fingers never pressed into his flesh, only skimmed with delicacy. Light's eyes melted. He gulped for air. Ryuzaki's hand touched his face. Light shivered, again, and embraced the other man.

"Uhnn'…Closer. Come closer," was his fatigued command. "Ryuzaki-san."

The detective complied, to an extent; he lowered on top of the agent, but lifted his face upward. His round eyes wandered in an absorbent stare over the glory splayed in the young man's unclothed form, how he looked so beauteous in even such scarce illumination – the light of the moon and nothing more. How, nevertheless, his physique seemed to be so crafted and molded by the finest hands of craftsmanship – perfectly, _too_ perfectly, he dared to think. It was beautiful. For a moment, the detective felt a more powerful strike of remorse attack him. For a moment, he could not believe this man was an abominable murderer, a serial killer – _he_ was Kira?

_Why?_

Ryuzaki pressed himself into Light, and his cheek came against his shoulder. He choked. He felt those red-brown eyes staring him down, in demand – in gentle inquisition – but Ryuzaki refused to return his stare, instead scooting forward to kiss him again. One of his hands became risqué, moving downward against Light's muscular abdomen, his palm easing onward until his fingers slipped into his underwear and grazed his member. In their kiss, he smiled inwardly; Light whined. The detective's hand moved beneath the erection to cradle. His thumb moved across the head or stroke sideways across the width. In whatever method the detective chose to fondle, Light would, after each, utter a moan. All of the noises were beautiful.

The caressing of his member became more passionate in an impassionate manner, never becoming quite rough or inducing any pain, only sheer pleasure. The kiss was broken for Light to regain his breath. He pulled in a sharp inhale and his head fell back. Cheeks flushed, he lay heaving.

A needy whine dragged from him. He exhaled, "…Enter me."His legs started to part. He groaned and writhed a little, "…Ryuzaki-san. Will you…"

_Say no more._

The detective gave no outward sign of acknowledgement.

Though inside, he said, "_Anything for you."_

His hands took hold of Light's thighs to ease his legs further apart. Light moaned again, driven by an escalating sensation of enthusiasm; he longed to feel the detective force himself into him, to feel his erection slip into him and protrude the depths. Ryuzaki set the head of his member by the agent's entrance, but he did not enter him quite yet. He lay between the younger man's legs and lowered his face by his stomach. He licked his lips, then fluttered them over a valley of hard muscle, humming in pleasure whenever he could sense Light recoil at the sensation. With an inward smile, and Light's moans fueling his passion, he slowly entered him.

Ryuzaki sighed, shivering. "Mmm'…Yagami-kun."

Light let his eyelids lower; he cried out in pleasure. The detective was able to ease himself through the unyielding boundary of the outer ring, and once his member had exceeded the margin, pumping the entrance was not so much a challenge. Needless to say, the detective had entered Light in prior interactions, and such acts had rendered his entrance somewhat relaxed, unlike the time of their first affair.

Light, in a wordless beckoning for an accelerating speed, widened the space between his legs, and his red-brown eyes sagged to glittering pools on his face. Each of them squinted to semi-circles and lifted to the detective's complexion when the man started to pump faster, his pelvis thrusting in a more precise, deliberate manner. Every drive sent the head of his erection to the depths of the entrance; at times, the skin of his crotch would collide with Light's flesh. Dynamic and potent, Ryuzaki clutched his counterpart's thighs and let a quavering breath flow from his lips. His dark eyes rose to Light's face. He studied him, and watched his lips.

"Ryuzaki-san…Uhnn'…I-I'm almost there," he whispered airily. "Ohhh…_Almost_."

The other man grunted. "I, as well, Light-kun." He paused to breathe. "Soon."

With those words leaving his lips, the detective, in absence, worked faster and thus his thrusts became more precise and quicker, striking deep within the other man. The sensation was nothing shy of utterly fulfilling and stimulating, and it sent a surging rush of eroticism coursing through Light's veins in such a fire. The agent forcefully turned his face aside and pressed his cheek into the mattress, crying a broken moan into the fabric. He felt a hand sneak to his member and clasp; the detective was pumping him. Light could only whine louder, and the detective indulged himself in such noises.

Progressively, they were climaxing together.

Gently, Ryuzaki entered his lover. He shuddered and Light mimicked him, and their cries merged to escalating sounds of pleasure beyond their heads. In such passion, the detective could barely catch a glimpse of how beautiful the other man looked engulfed in the sensation, how his brunette hair had become matted down against his sweat-beaded forehead and how his cheeks had flushed. However, the detective forced his eyes down when he felt his erection warm. Shivering, he felt a surge of liquid from his member, and such liquid entered his lover.

Light, subsequently, threw his head back against the mattress in surrender; he cried. His eyelids fluttered. His own erection had grown warm in Ryuzaki's hand, and he released with a deep sigh expulsed from his lungs, as if relieved or overwhelmed. The detective had leaned himself against the agent's leg to impassively kiss his skin, and his dark eyes had drooped. He watched Light's release trickle down his hand. He brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked on his finger tips. Once finished, he lowered his hand. He sighed.

They sat in silence.

Light's calming breathing was the only sound.

The detective withdrew from the agent's entrance.

They were finished.

Hunched on the mattress, his legs lazily spread themselves apart in an inelegant sight, and his eyes were downcast as he listened to his counterpart's subsiding breaths. He heard rustling as Light lifted from the mattress and linen, and he flinched when a hand came on top of his. He shot his eyes to Light in silent inquiry. Light's red-brown stared back. Like before, they appeared to be drooped on his face, seemingly weighted by the invisible mass of emotion. The detective could see affection, though sorrow and remorse amid such hues. Kira's anger was unperceivable. For nearly a minute, they did nothing but stare at one another.

A minute passed.

A half of another.

At last, Light leaned forward to kiss his lover's lips; there was nothing more. He rose from the mattress and clothed himself in the white robe, never bothering to tie the belt around his waist. Silently, he started to depart from the room, to leave Ryuzaki amid solitude, amid the light of the moon…

The detective, however, stopped him.

He called, "Light-kun."

Light turned. He started to re-approach, and confusion ghosted his face. He furrowed his brow. "…Yes?" He sat back on the mattress.

He noticed the struggle etched into the detective's expression; it was as if there was something he wanted to liberate himself of, something that weighted his heart, something that just needed to be revealed. The agent made a face of question. A tinge of fear found his confusion and made his heart skip. He leaned closer.

"What is it?"

The detective met his eyes.

In a murmur, the revelation, "…My name is L Lawliet."

Light's eyes rounded. A breath left him, shaking, though he hastily forced himself to inhale. L Lawliet. His visage became masked with misunderstanding, and his stare widened with perplexity and a demand for clarity. He stammered, "Wh-What? Ryuzaki…" His voice faded. He scrutinized the other man. "…L Lawliet."

Ryuzaki looked away.

He wouldn't be too clear. "Do what you want with my name, Kira, Light," he told him simply, quiet. He rose. "And if anything, Yagami-kun, forgive me."

The detective exited.

Even when the man disappeared, Light continued to stare at the door.

Impassively, his attention turned to the panoramic window, to the stars.

Blank, he gazed.

The moon was full, hanging high in the dusk of a late night.

Though, Light felt as if his heart had sunk. He groaned in a sense of frustration. What was he to do? The man had given him his name - the detective's _true_ name was in the abominable hands of a serialized murderer. The detective had jeopardized his life; Kira could see him as an undesirable and choose to kill him. The question was, _would_ Kira choose to kill him? In truth, in the eyes of Kira, the man was nothing but an obstacle and a nuisance. He impeded Kira's progress, and hindered the image of his New World - his Utopia. However, whose motives were to be executed? Those of Yagami Light, or Kira?

What of their relationship?

There was true passion between them; Light could sense it.

He fell on his side with a sigh.

His lips mouthed Ryuzaki's true name.

_L Lawliet._

He dropped his eyes.

_What will become of you?_

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	14. XIV: Incapable

**A/N: **_Ryuzaki's fate is decided._

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**Chapter Fourteen: Incapable **

The fountain pen was angled poised in Light's hand - the sleek barrel of the instrument balanced between his fore- and index fingers - and the tip hovered a mere millimeter above a sheet of lined paper, never moving, completely still without the slightest quake. His other hand rested on the adjacent page of the black-binded notebook, and it, too, was still. Even amid such a room - one with its lights dimmed and the atmosphere rendered somber - struggle could be seen etched on his face. His red-brown eyes seemed weighted by the emotion, but not only by struggle. Traces of remorse and helplessness seeped through the his stare. Within another passing minute, a sharp exhale left him and he let the pen drop from his hand. Fists formed on top of the notebook and he hung his head as if crestfallen, closing his eyes when upsurging emotion overwhelmed him.

"Damnit," he swore softly.

He couldn't.

He was _incapable_. Yagami Light was incapable.

He regretted his inability. He hated it, and Kira was angered at his, this imperfection .

How hard could this be?

_See the face, see the name, and write it down. _

He frowned in his misery, and lifted his eyes to the sheet of paper - a blank, fresh and unmarked piece of paper. In his mind, he materialized the face and the name, both of whom belonged to the detective. Lowering his eyelids again, he could further envision the man's pale face, the set of round, black-rimmed eyes and a head of unkempt hair - an inelegant complexion, but even so, Light felt a flicker of affectionate warmth blossom somewhere inside him. At such a feeling, he closed his eyes tighter. His fists, too, tightened. He couldn't feel affection now, not now.

He could see the man's name - his true name - floating about his head, scripted in a peculiar, cursive lettering, as if he were looking at the man through the perspective of one possessing the Shinigami eyes.

_L Lawliet._

His eyelids rose. His stare was downcast upon the paper and held there for no more than a minute. At once, he sighed and folded his arms on top of the notebook, burying his face in them. He shook his head. A noise broke in his throat. Frustration and agitation, disappointment…

"Why can't I do this?" his words were muffled.

From behind him came the sound of rustling, and a billow of cool air flowed over him, along with hoarse chortling. The accompanying Shinigami had descended. Light found himself wincing at the sound of its laughter; to him, the moment was anything but comical. He lifted his head and aimlessly took the fountain pen in hand. He propped an elbow on the tabletop to rest his cheek in his palm, his stare focused on the instrument in his hand. With a sense of expertise and poise, he let the pen twirl in his fingers, graciously, fluidly without a fumble.

He continued to ignore the Shinigami, even as the ethereal beast strode to his side and one of his crooked claws beckoned to the notebook's empty page. The tip of his finger tapped it thrice.

"Hmm? C'mon, Light. What's the matter?" he inquired with a grin. "Can't write your own enemy's name in your notebook?" He laughed again.

Light frowned. "Perhaps I will, Ryuk," he said with uncertainty. "Maybe soon…"

Ryuk laughed at him in mockery. "Well, can ya give me a number? How long will it be?"

There came a pause. Light sighed. "I'm not sure."

Another chuckle.

His _enemy_, Ryuk had called Ryuzaki. In Yagami Light's eyes, could Ryuzaki be viewed as an adversary? No, in such a notion, the detective was not, in any way, an adversary. In such an outlook, the man was someone to feel a sense of adoration and affection towards, someone to, he dare say…to _love_. However, to Kira - Ryuzaki was not anyone to feel any sort of fondness for. This was clear. To Kira, he _was_ an adversary. He was the man who had defeated him and would, one day, be the one to report him to all proper authorities, and thus deliver him to his condemnation.

Light fell silent.

Slowly, he shook his head, and said in a small voice, "…I can't."

_But, Kira could._

Who could he listen to? Which façade? Kira or Yagami Light?

He recollected.

Closing his eyes, he envisioned that day, the day he first set a hand on the notebook, the moment when his flesh had contacted the Death Note and rendered it _his_ possession. On that same day, he had tested the notebook's capabilities and when its powers had been proven, he had planned on using such power to eliminate all of those who were unfit in his eyes - in _Kira's_ eyes. Kira's ultimate aspiration was to eventually create a world where only the purest and strong-willed would reside, where transgression was no more and only propriety was known. Light remembered - he had made that a heartfelt goal, a desire. The thought of a New World was completely tantalizing in Kira's eyes, and utterly stimulating. He dared to say that Kira hungered for such a universe. He did.

But, he recollected again.

He remembered when he was introduced to Ryuzaki, whether it was amid close encounters on college campus or whereabouts in the Task Force HQ. Their relationship began rocky with the man's constant, early accusations of him being Kira, but it soon leveled. Intimacy unfolded. He pictured images of the first of their affairs; again, he could hear the detective's voice demanding him to confess, and he could feel invigorating methods of lovemaking warming his body to overwhelming proportions.

He bit his lip and grunted. "Mmm…"

He forced his eyes open. The Shinigami had moved his grinning face in front of the human in a sense of interest, but he swiftly swept back when the young man's stare caught his curious own. Nevertheless, the winged creature chortled and stared at Light, standing hunched, a foot or so away.

"…I didn't know you two were like that," Ryuk said quietly. "Kinda – close."

Light squinted.

The Shinigami…He was aware? Of course.

What did he know?

The agent scrutinized Ryuk. His expression was humorless. "I can only presume that you have been speculating our interactions, I suppose. You're awfully curious…I should have known," he spoke. His eyes became somewhat callous. He leaned forward. "Ryuk, keep what you see to yourself."

Ryuk snorted. "Eh', don't worry about me," he assured. "Although…I am surprised."

Light looked at the notebook. "Why's that?"

"That you both insist on…doing those things to one another, Light. Each day -" He started to laugh uncontrollably; had he been able to, the Shinigami would have blushed. "Mm, humans are truly wild, unpredictable creatures!"

Light forced himself to disregard such needless noise; he knew what the Shinigami was alluding to - their affairs, particularly the select few that had become a little more passionate than prior interactions. He let a sigh pass his lips as he noticed his stare growing obscured. He was daydreaming, and looking at nothing other than the notebook on the tabletop. His face was blank as he contemplated.

What would he do?

No, he rewound.

Why did the detective so loosely speak his name to him - to _Kira_? Surely, the man was conscious of probable likelihoods, moreover the chance of his name becoming written in the notebook. Light looked up and scooted back against the head of his chair, folding his arms against his chest. His head fell back. Impassively, he gazed upward. He noted the warm lighting of the room that had washed over the ceiling, a slowly-rotating fan circulating air... Yet another sigh tumbled from him in a passion of desperation. His hand found the fountain pen and grasped it. He groaned.

With the other hand, he closed the notebook.

His eyelids fell.

It couldn't be done.

L Lawliet could not be killed.

_.xXx ._

His thumb dropped from his bottom lip.

What was this?

No. This was most definitely not surrender. It couldn't be.

He moved his face closer. His eyes became wider.

_What was this? _

In the monitor's grainy display, Yagami-kun shot forward and opened the notebook, again, for the second time. He heightened the fountain pen just above a page of the notebook, the instrument held secure in his fingers, though kept gracious in hand; indeed, the young agent appeared to be trembling, distraught over something. However, such a scene was anti-climatic. The point of the pen, soon, no longer hovered over an unmarked sheet of paper. In a compulsive motion of frustration, Light secured the cap over the tip of the pen, and the object was soon thrusted against the tabletop. It tumbled to the floor, and was never minded.

Light, having been rendered unusually relaxed by the burden of his incapability - his _flaw_ - slumped in his seat. His head fell back. His eyes became weighted. His stare housed and made evident of his aggravation and frustration towards his inability. Each of his eyes, red-brown, seemed to shimmer in even such dimmed lighting, as though this flaw had brought to him a sheet of tears. The detective leaned even closer to the screen, and pondered.

What was Yagami-kun doing?

_What are you planning, Kira? Light…_

His thumb pushed against his lip again. Yagami-kun had refused to succumb to the so fervent desires of Kira; this was truly unpredicted. Was this to say that Light had altogether forfeited to his incapability, that he had sincerely acknowledged his defeat and would not kill the detective? In truth, Ryuzaki was appalled, though no such emotion was shown on his face. He kept his eyes on the screen. Why had Light chosen to listen to the more "innocent" of his two façades? Why the motives of Yagami-kun, and not those of Kira?

Light was unable to kill him, but why?

_Why_ was he incapable?

Why, why, why…

What emotions were coursing through him, and what thoughts, besides the evident? Sure, there was frustration and disbelief in the agent's head, perhaps a sense of infuriation and ache from his own mind's chastising, but there had to be more. A subtle smile took form on his lips; he licked his lips. Yagami-kun could be feeling remorseful. Such remorse could have flourished from a sort of fear, a fear of losing a man he had grown fond of. It was possible that Light was afraid to lose the detective... Maybe their affairs had been truly more than "experiments" and "tests."

Ryuzaki frowned.

For a moment, he hated himself. He had grown fond of Yagami-kun.

In time, though, Kira's condemnation would come.

That was inevitable.

"Damn," he sighed.

Why did Yagami-kun have to be Kira, of all people?

The door opened.

The detective acted. He was quick to offline the monitor and to swiftly avert his attention to a platter of scattered cookies; a couple of them were bitten, or half-eaten. He took one of them in his hand and chewed on it. The enterer paused behind him. Their eyes fell over the detective.

"…What was that, Ryuzaki?"

_Watari._

Ryuzaki continued to chew. "It was nothing, Watari-san. Only dated footage," he lied.

His dark eyes had fallen. Each of them clouded with the haziness of an incoming trance; he was contemplating. Light had not listened to Kira.

Yagami-kun did not succumb to Kira.

This meant something.

He _would_ see Light.

_.xXx._

The detective was surprised to find Yagami-kun's door unlocked. The more courteous part of him insisted that he knock to warn the agent of his entrance, but he decided against it and saw himself inside. At the moment he entered, he hurried to look at one particular part of his counterpart's room, the section where the monitor had shown the agent seated and frustrated before his open notebook. Ryuzaki was able to locate Light's typical, wooden desk; indeed, it was typical and there was nothing unusual about it, but he still persisted on staring at it. The notebook was no longer on the desktop - tucked away someplace confidential - and only the fountain pen was present beside one leg of the chair, on the floor. Yagami-kun was not to be seen, though the desk's chair was out-of-place. He would, most likely, return.

Silently, the door was closed. As usual, the room's illumination was scarce and dimmed to a golden, and romantic, luminosity; in truth, such an atmosphere irked his longing to see the agent. There was not a sound to corrupt the silence. Hush had permeated. It was almost eerie, and the orderliness of the room only escalated such eeriness.

He wandered in further and turned to scope the atmosphere. He was unaware of Light's hesitant entrance. The agent cleared his throat softly, and Ryuzaki looked at him. Almost at once, he lifted his hand to nibble on the tip of his thumb, to push it against his lips in bad habit. Ryuzaki felt his stare become wide and absorbent, as if he were indulging himself in the other man's company. Light further approached him with a look of question, and his eyes scrutinized the detective.

"You're here," he said. "What is it?"

There was no response. For moments, Ryuzaki only studied the young man's face. He sought to depict the emotions etched into that visage; undeniably, there were shadows of struggle and misunderstanding in his brow, a spark of affection and a trace of remorse in his stare, perhaps uncertainty, but some sort of longing in his expression – longing to rid himself of these feelings. The emotions were subtle, but nevertheless, perceivable.

The detective felt provoked. His hands rose to Light's shoulders, and his fingers were gentle when fiddling with the collar of his shirt. On a purposeful accident, he let the tips of his fingers graze Light's skin and touch his neck, to scale a side of his throat. The gestures were tantalizing, but it was only natural for Ryuzaki to behave this way with the agent. It didn't feel forced or fake, only instinctive.

He kept his dark eyes downcast. He murmured, "…You didn't kill me."

Light stammered. He blinked.

Ryuzaki knew.

Light became vaguely aware that the detective was guiding him to the adjacent wall, and when his back collided with the wall, he gasped softly. A small noise left him, one of question; he let himself conform to the barrier behind him, leaning into the wall. He acted in response to the man's gestures and moved his own arms around him. His hold was delicate, and his hands stroked on occasion. With studious, intent eyes, Light tilted his head. He lifted the detective's chin with one hand, with one finger, and forced eye contact. The pale man gawked, his face vacant. Light squinted a little. His brow had furrowed gently.

"You were watching me," he concluded. "A camera…You installed one in here."

Ryuzaki lifted his chin from Light's hand. "Yes, though not just one," he told him. "But, that is irrelevant. I only wanted to know what you do, and who would you would listen to: Kira, or Yagami-kun." There was a pause, and he said again, "You didn't kill me."

Light leaned back. With hesitation, he nodded once and flicked his eyes away. "I didn't. Kira didn't. I cou -" He stopped himself. His mouth kept open.

The detective finished his sentence. "You couldn't," he said. "You were incapable." There was a moment where he looked closely at Light's face, searching the handsome complexion for some sort of answer. "Why couldn't you?"

Something alighted in the agent's stare, and the shape of his eyes rounded. In truth, he, himself, had been pondering over the exact inquiry, and he had, too, wondered why he was not able to enter the detective's name into his notebook, and kill him. Truly, the deed was not that hard to do. See the face, see the name, and write it down…Yes, Kira could do this, undoubtedly, without a question, but the fervor of Yagami-kun's emotions had trounced. The emotions: that was the question. What emotions of Yagami-kun had overpowered Kira's? Such feelings had to be professed to Ryuzaki, now.

He swallowed. His words were choked.

Fingers began to navigate the contours of his face; the tips traced the place where his cheekbones were and the base of his chin became the hard bone of his angular jawline. Somewhat shaken, the agent blinked at his counterpart's doings, but, again, he said no word of protest to them. He was barely able to encircle his arms around the detective's waist, and his heart had become an erratic cadence within his chest. He poorly suppressed his apprehension by moving the other man closer. At last, he spoke in a soft voice, "I – I just couldn't." That was all.

A pause. "No, surely, there's more," Ryuzaki replied in a murmur. "Why couldn't you?"

Indecisive moods made a deeper infliction on Light's expression; evidently, his eyes seemed to grow heavier in a sort of disquiet, uneased hue, and his arms' embrace weakened to an accidental impression of a nonchalant attitude. Light stood idle, though poised, against the wall, and his stare had been cast elsewhere, aside. He did not seem to be captivated in a trance or impassive; he was thinking. At times, his lips would move, but no sound would escape him. He stammered, "I-I…I-I feel – I feel as if…"

The detective sought to provoke a confession. He wanted one, now. He leaned himself deeper against the agent and brought his cheek by a corner of his chest. He could feel the man's trepidation-ridden heartbeat in accord with the faltering patterns of his breathing, and one of his hands rose to the center of his chest. There, his fingers traced into the material of his shirt, though pressed enough to tantalize the flesh that lie beneath the garment. He swept a finger upward and to the lowermost area of his collarbones, gracious and delicate.

"What did you feel – truly? What emotions, Yagami-kun?" He looked at him. "Don't be shy. Tell me."

Light bit his lip. His eyes squinted. "I felt…I felt afraid," the confession tumbled out in a quiet tone. "I was afraid to kill you in fear that I would grieve over your demise. I could not be alone. I felt something true between us. Something…" His voice faded; he stopped himself. His mouth closed for a moment. "…There aren't enough words to tell you, Ryuzaki."

The detective stared up. "You felt passion. Affection," he whispered. "Is that true?"

A noise broke; the agent bowed his head against the other man's, and his eyes fell closed. "Yes," he practically sighed.

"You did not listen to Kira."

Light shook his head. He opened his eyes and met Ryuzaki's. "No, I didn't."

At then, silence. The detective looked into the agent's face with neither a smile on his face, nor a word of amiability, though warmth still mustered to shimmer over the obscurities of his dark stare. The man gathered his counterpart's lips into a kiss and held there. For moments, he thought of nothing, but Yagami-kun. He felt nothing, but ardor for the agent. Love.

He pulled back. "I'm glad you didn't, and I hope you don't ever."

Light stared into the man's eyes. He held him tighter. He wanted to say something, he wanted to tell him. "…I-I," he could only muster. He started over. "Ryuzaki, I…"

Love you.

The detective watched him, but his urges soon took over. He hushed him, "Shhh," and leaned up to let their mouths touch and gather, to kiss the other man with delicate passion. He shook his head a little to dismiss the agent's prior stammers; he felt the words could wait, for now, no matter what they were. Light let the detective rest his head by his shoulder. His fingers stroked against the man's pale cheek and entwined with tresses of hair, his lips kissing the top of his head softly. Ryuzaki fell against him.

"…I want so much more, Light-kun," he murmured. His hand scaled the agent's leg. His mouth started at the base of his throat. He licked. "…So much more of you, now."

Light nodded with a little whine. "I do too, Ryuzaki-san."

"I can't bring myself to it, though," the detective continued, and stopped his actions. "I'm bound by this remorse. I've never faced a harder moment of my life, Light-kun. Our days are numbered…"

"Set that aside," the whispered interruption. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

Ryuzaki only stood idle and wordless.

Light frowned. He kissed his head again. "Don't be so sad. It's foolish, Ryuzaki."

His arms encircled the man and he lowered himself to the floor; the detective followed him. Enveloped in the man's radiating warmth, Ryuzaki, still, said nothing. He could not cope with such despair. He would lose Yagami-kun – Why? His stare was fixed forward, and his face was vacant of all emotion. Light held him with caution and seemingly tentativeness, as if he did not want to further impair the detective given his current state of being. He did, though, bring his lips to the man's cheek. He said nothing either, and kept his face close by. At once, quiet came about them, and hush permeated. They sat in the company of one another, wordless, and silent…

Light brought the detective's face to his chest. He laid it there. "…Let's go out. Somewhere else," he said to him. "I – I need a change of scenery."

Ryuzaki looked up a little. "It's quite late."

"We'll be fine," he assured. He kissed him. "I want to be in a place where I'm certain we're alone, and away from the others. I need to get away from this building, the Kira case…" He paused. "Just for a little while."

The detective gave a small nod. He could understand the raising longing in the agent's voice, his dire want to escape the Task Force HQ as if seeking to, at least for some time, liberate himself of thoughts pertaining to the Kira case, and enjoy himself in the company of the detective. Admittedly, Ryuzaki, too, longed a new environment. The case had bore on both of them; it had weighed on their shoulders.

Light started to lift the man to his feet. He whispered a gentle, "Come on," and led him towards the door, with controlled, subtle longing hinting through the tone of his voice, though the desperation was clear when his hand clutched the detective's.

He pulled him along, barely.

He wanted to be alone with him. He wanted to escape.

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**L'Adore.**


	15. XV: Broken

**A/N:** Sorry for the longer-than-usual-ish wait. I've been a little busy with things lately.

But, hey, I finished the chapter, so here it is. x]

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**Chapter Fifteen: Broken**

At such an hour of the night, the park was completely vacant. Reminisces of prior human activity, though, still lingered on the recreational grounds. There were uneven mounds of sand in the sandbox, children's toys abandoned by swaying tire swings, and a tiny wheel or two that had broken from a rollerblade, or perhaps someone's skateboard. However, these reminisces were from hours before, when the day had just begun. Now, the moon had risen and seemed to be plastered against the night sky. Clusters of clouds rolled in with the wind and, for a moment, concealed a portion of the moon; undoubtedly, such clouds assured rainfall.

Still, rain or no rain, Light and his counterpart would stay here at the park. They had decided on an evening _away_ from the Task Force Headquarters and away from the Kira case –_elsewhere_ - and the park seemed to be the most suitable place for any sense of relief. It was tranquil and quiet.

For Yagami-kun, venturing away from the headquarters was only optimal for his sanity's sake, or so he believed deeply. Such constant and daily talk of the Kira case had wearied him to a point where he felt as if his mind had been exhausted. He was shaken over his loss and his upcoming conviction, just as Kira was angered and bewildered. The time of his condemnation, with each passing day, was steadily approaching. He drearily acknowledged that fact. He wished there was a way out, some sort of escape route…No, such a miracle would never happen. His condemnation was inevitable and unavoidable.

He would be leaving the detective - soon.

Light sighed, distraught, frustrated…

Why did it have to be this way?

With poise, he descended onto the weathered seat of a swing set, and his hands rose to clutch either one of the metal chains that kept the seat secure to an overhanging bar. One of his sneakers prodded into the foundation of scattered wood chips beneath him, and he started to swing himself in a slow, unfaltering cadence. But soon, his eyes clouded; he was mesmerized by the thoughts swirling about his brain, and he stared impassively at the ground. The woodchips merged and blurred in his vision. His swinging eventually stopped.

The days were numbered, his last ones of this Earth.

He closed his eyes.

Why?

He became vaguely aware of how close the detective had approached, and he twitched when a pale hand rose to the zipper of his windbreaker. The twitch was enough to liberate him from his engrossing contemplations and distressing considerations. His reddish-brown gaze lifted to the man in front of him, in expectance to see another set of eyes peering down into his face, but Ryuzaki did not look at him. In fact, he did not even seem to realize the attempt to make eye contact.

Light frowned at this. "Ryuzaki."

Again, there was nothing. Neither a spoken word, nor a reaction. The detective, instead, committed an act of aid. With the zipper of his counterpart's windbreaker held between two delicate thumb and index fingers, he fastened the agent's jacket. His eyes made a brief scan over the younger man's face as he continued on, pulling up the jacket's hood over Light's head. Light insisted on staring. Rain pattered heavier against the glossy, synthetic material of his windbreaker, and a breeze followed. In attempt to suppress his body's shiver, Light moved his arms around his waist.

"Thank you."

Ryuzaki nodded. "…You're welcome."

A pause.

"…I don't understand, Ryuzaki," Light whispered beneath the sound of falling rain. "Why are you waiting?"

The detective had glanced up into the sky, never minding the droplets of precipitation that descended and wetted his face, as well as his unkempt mane of hair. He decided to meet Light's eyes, slowly. A prolonged stare was his method of blinking confusedly, perplexed by the agent's inquiry. He echoed with a tilt of his head, his voice a monotone murmur, "Why am I waiting?"

The nod from Light was subtle. "Why are you waiting to tell them? Why are you waiting to tell the others that I am Kira," his voice rose with fervent agitation. His hands clutched the swing's chain suspenders even tighter. "Why don't you just tell them?"

Ryuzaki, too, held on to the swing's suspenders. One of his hands curled around one of the agent's. Their fingers entwined. He spoke quietly. "It isn't so easy for me, Light-kun. Why, do you think I will be rejoicing when I lose you?"

Light watched, but said nothing.

The detective went on. "I won't be. Not at all."

He bent his knees only so far, until he had set his face near his counterpart's, until he could clearly stare into those reddish-brown eyes and perceive the innocence in his gaze, the unease and apprehension, the disquiet…He hoped that Light could somehow see the affection in his impassive stare.

He licked his lips. "I may – No, I will be relieved once Kira's reign is ended. But, when Yagami-kun is gone…" The rest of his words were dismissed for the moment. He brought a kiss to his counterpart's cheek, and he suppressed a sound breaking in his throat with a small hum. His hand shivered over Light's.

He finished his sentence with a murmur by Light's ear. "I don't know what I will do. I'm afraid I won't have anything, or anyone, to live for."

Light gawked. His breathing was heard, faint and wavering. "You can't mean that."

"I do," Ryuzaki whispered. "I mean every word."

With a quiet sound, Light moved his face from Ryuzaki's hands. He seemed as if he were going to say something in response to the detective's whisper, but no words left his lips. Instead, he embraced him without any word or sign of warning, as if he wanted to suppress the desperation welled up within him. The detective furrowed his brow, puzzled by such behavior. Why this sudden despair? Could he, truly, be _this_ distressed? He leaned himself from the agent's encircling arms and lifted a rapt pair of eyes to the other man's face. He searched through his features just as though he were seeking an answer in his troubled visage.

"…Are you scared?"

Light looked to him quickly, though he soon glanced away.

What kind of question was this?

Was it not obvious, or did the man simply want to hear him say it?

His hands curled further on the metal chains, grasping tighter. His mouth opened; his lips trembled. "More or less," the understatement. There came a pause. "Aren't you scared as well?"

The detective took his shoulders. "I am," he responded. "You know that, Yagami-kun." He brought his lips to the agent's cheek and kissed him softly, letting his mouth trail the length of his jaw and scale a little of the flesh of his throat. Light felt his hands tense. He let out a moan, and shook his head.

"I know…I knew that," he said quietly. "I was only -"

"Then, you shouldn't ask," Ryuzaki murmured. With as much grace as his inelegant nature would allow, he drew the agent near with an affectionate wrap of his arms, to further pull him within the realm of his personal space; he felt affection rise as Light mimicked and did the same. They conformed. Light's cheek found comfort against the detective's shoulder, and his voice was quiet in the man's ear.

For almost a minute, they sat in silence, amid the rainfall.

Light was the one to speak.

"We left the headquarters to _forget_ about the case, Ryuzaki. We were to say nothing about it," he whispered almost drearily. He held tighter. "…Look at us."

Ryuzaki dropped his eyes. "We're not doing very well, are we…"

Quiet settled again, as their eye contact broke and their bodies remained close within the other's realm. They had spoken of the case so impassively, without realization...

Light leaned back and took the detective's hand.

He rose from the swing. "Let's go somewhere else."

Ryuzaki watched him. "Where?"

"Anywhere, farther from the headquarters," his voice insisted in a whisper, with the hint of a plea in his tone. He pulled the man along with delicate force as he began to step aside, and guide him to his car. "Come with me."

_xXx _

They had been driving for no more than ten minutes, and only the faint purr from the vehicle's engine disrupted the quiet among them. The detective, hunched at the passenger seat, had held his grayish stare forward for, practically, the entire ride; in truth, from the moment they had entered the vehicle, with exceptions to his occasional glances aside to the agent. He, now, watched the young man maneuver the car with his natural sense of poise, rotating the steering wheel with such grace floating from his fingertips. He let the vehicle swerve about a corner. Within a moment, they came upon a red light. The detective flicked his stare to the windshield to look down the road ahead of them.

Thankfully, traffic was not hectic.

He pointed one of his pale fingers forward. "Continue straight, Light-kun."

Light looked to him quickly. There was a sort of confusion in his eyes, and a gentle demand for the man to explain his order, but he remained wordless except for a small "Okay." The car drove beyond the traffic lights once the signal became green, and again, after not even a minute had elapsed, the detective lifted his hand to beckon to somewhere outside the windshield. His finger extended, and he said, "Turn here."

The vehicle, suddenly, slowed; the brake was eased on. Light acted as cautious as the situation would allow, and turned as the man had obeyed. He gave Ryuzaki a small look of misunderstanding once he had become aware of where they had arrived to. The site was a vacant, unaccompanied parking lot, a remote and abandoned area of cracked, aged cement foundation.

Why here?

The car was parked in one of the many empty spaces, and Light removed the key from the ignition. No longer was the sound of a rumbling engine about them. Light kept his hands on the steering wheel, nonetheless, and slowly looked to the man at his side. Perplexity was etched into his handsome face. His eyes were intent, though warm.

"You brought us here," he stated somewhat unsurely. His hands relaxed and fell to his lap. "Is this a better place?"

The detective, after a moment, looked at him. There was scarce lighting in the vehicle. His pale skin seemed to be an even lighter pigment than its true hue, and his round eyes, like his skin, appeared exceedingly peculiar. His stare was unnerving, and as his monotone voice whispered something indistinct, he leaned himself closer to the agent. He kept one hand at his mouth to fiddle with his lip, but the other rested against Light's leg. "I think this is much better," he told him. "…Much better."

He kept his lips by the other man's ear. He was teasing him with such flirtatious behavior, seeking to tantalize his counterpart with a purring voice and stroking hand. And, it was working. With delicacy, and barely any force at all, he brought a kiss against the agent's cheek. A noise of pleasure broke from his throat. He let his tongue slip forth to lap and savor the flavors on the agent's flesh, to taste and drag the essences within his mouth. He puckered his lips softly and kissed him again; and now, in response, low noises began to escape Light. Ryuzaki felt the other man's hands moving against the hem of his shirt, and curious, eager fingers started to sneak beneath the material of his shirt. They touched his bare flesh. The detective smiled, so subtly.

"Mmmmm."

His hands took hold of Light's shoulders; visibly, either one fluttered in his growing delight. He lowered the zipper of the agent's jacket, exposing a plain tee-shirt that concealed the beauteous craftsmanship of his physique. The shirt would be removed. The detective acted, and longingly pulled at the garment, tracing his hands into his counterpart's stomach and torso, or wherever else he could sense muscle beneath his touch.

Light leaned back. His head titled against the window.

"Uhnn'…"

His breathing was heard in short, staggering gasps. He shot forward to clamp their mouths; he was hungry for the other man, and he sought to taste every corner, contour, and curve of the man's lips. They, together, let their passion tumble forth in fervent moans. Light whined a little as he extended himself across the passenger and driver's seat, never minding the cup holders, steering wheel, or the dashboard that were accidently rubbed against. Ryuzaki climbed between his legs, and part of his chest rested against the agent. He pushed up Light's shirt to uncover his stomach. His mouth descended upon Light's skin – he puckered and kissed, suckled, licked, lapped and moaned into his flesh.

Such beauty. He attacked it.

"Ohh. Mmmm…"

Light spread his legs wide in attempt to suppress the rapture coursing through him. He groaned. His hands tugged at the crotch of his pants. So desperately, he needed to relieve himself of this elation, and his insistent erection needed to be withdrawn.

"Uhnn'…Ryuzaki!"

The detective lifted his mouth. Eroticism glowed in his eyes.

"Allow me."

He undid the zipper of his counterpart's pants.

He slipped a hand inside. He felt a bulge.

Light whimpered.

"Ohh!" he gasped. His hands tore at the other man's clothes. "Ohh…Take it all off."

The detective met his eyes. "Only if you insist to do so as well, Light-kun."

There came another whine, and desperate nods. "Yes."

Ryuzaki brought his hands to his own shirt. He made sure to strip himself and unclothe his torso quickly, but he did not, however, act rushed or sloppy. The garment was pulled over his head and discarded aside. It draped over the dashboard, a sleeve caught by the steering wheel. He watched his counterpart's jacket and tee-shirt fall tumble; now, the agent was beginning to make such small noises, as though impatient for their lovemaking to resume. The detective slipped from Light's space to ease himself from his unfitting pair of pants, to slowly writhe from the baggy denims and push them to the floor of the car. He was left clad in his underwear, plain and white below his abdomen.

Light let his pants, too, topple to the floor, and suddenly, he leaned up to embrace the man. Their undressed bodies pressed into one another. The detective felt his counterpart's heart racing in sync with his own, and Light's quick breathing sounded by his ear.

It took not long for Light's mouth to locate and gather the detective's lips, for him to taste the sweet essences that, each and every time, lingered on his lips. The flavor blossomed on his tongue, gentle, though invigorating. Even if the flavors seemed subtle, they acted as a stimulant that electrified their lovemaking. Light found himself engulfed in such fire, a warmth that utterly compelled him to kiss the man harder and move his fingers against his flesh.

The detective, now, wanted more, _much_ more. He guided the agent to the passenger seat, with controlled force. Light leaned into the leather as their lips pulled away. His reddish-brown eyes shot a stare over the man, one that seemed to be drunken by love and affection.

Ryuzaki felt for a lever at the base of the seat.

The seat leaned back and flattened.

The detective straddled, and hovered above the agent.

Light groaned. His breathing grew louder. "Oh, Ryuzaki-san." He flushed deeper.

The detective's hands were gentle to take the agent's sides, and to direct the man onto his stomach. Light lay flat atop the extended, leather seat. Ryuzaki kept his palm flat against one of his shoulder blades, keeping him pinned to the seat with delicate assertiveness, and his other hand rose to lower his underwear. Slowly, with tantalizing grace, he exposed his member. He cradled it in his slender, refined fingers, and thumbed over the head. He stimulated himself before he slowly entered the other man, pushing himself deep within him.

Light emitted a cry, though the noise became muffled in the leather seat. Still, the ecstasy pulsing through him was clearly displayed through his clawing hands and tensing backside, as well as his shivers and consistent groans. The detective pumped the agent at a steady, rhythmic cadence. He made sure to be precise, to protrude the depths each time.

He worked faster than normal.

Light flushed. His eyes drooped. "Ohh. Ohhh," the sounds escaped him. "Mm'nnn. Ohh."

Those noises, such _tiny_ sounds; indeed, they were small, but nevertheless, stimulants for the upsurge of fervor through the detective's veins. These noises compelled Ryuzaki to echo with his own array of ecstasy-driven moans, and together, the sounds escalated to a chorus of ardor and filled up the car's interior. He induced faster thrusts upon his counterpart. He held him tighter. Light arched his back inward. He flushed, and a cry of pleasure broke from him.

He drew in a quavering breath. "…_H-Harder_."

Ryuzaki grunted his acknowledgement. He moved the agent nearer to him to angle him upward, to better enter and thrust into him. The tension he had sensed in the younger man's muscles was no longer there; now, the agent had become lax. He did not work against the detective's actions, but instead moved in cooperation to his romantic acts, surrendering to the man's hold, letting him guide and maneuver him as he wished. A sharp inhale raced passed Light's lips, and he found his hands fumbling for something to clutch, resorting to either side of the leather seat beneath him. Softly, he moaned when the detective's lips kissed a path between his shoulder blades, down the length of his vertebrae, the top of his bottom...

Light bit his lip. "Uhnn'…"

The warmth of Ryuzaki's fervent erection had intensified to a climatic degree, and such warmth promised his release to occur within minutes. The detective pursed his succulent lips just above the agent's flesh before he sought to kiss his back, again, letting his mouth sweep in a gracious arch between the spot where his shoulder blades lay. A hum purred within his throat as the brunette shivered, and provoked, he kissed rougher. Saliva wetted the agent's skin. Ryuzaki continued to pump his counterpart in quick, precise thrusts, ensuring, each time, that he withdrew his member towards the opening before pushing forward. His pelvis was rhythmic; his work was formidable. Light, enveloped in fervor, moaned. He, too, was becoming overwhelmed by that unmistakable sensation of orgasm, and would release soon.

"Ohhh!"

In a fit of desperation, Light forced his hand beneath him to clasp his member. He whined, his eyes closing, "R-Ryuzaki…" His voice merged to faltering breaths, but another statement was needless. The spoken named housed his insistent desire and longing to ejaculate, his blooming lust and yearning to feel the detective's release surge into him. Yes, he craved that sensation, both sensations - orgasm. He called out again, groaning, "Ryuzaki."

The detective pushed his member to the depths, and spurred a fervent cry from his counterpart. He fell on top of him in a sudden act of, too, desire. His breathing grew hurried as a familiar sense of heat was cast over to encase him; indeed, it was nothing orgasm. He heard his own voice escape in a broken moan, a sound broken by the ecstasy throbbing through his veins. Form shuddering, liquid surged from the head of his member and entered the agent. Light let the release flow as freely it desired, and his legs, impassively, spread further apart as if to further welcome the liquid into him. The detective tensed to force every ounce of his release into Light, and he suddenly became relaxed once no more could be discharged.

And so, silence permeated.

Moans subsided.

Faltering gasps turned to slowing breaths.

The detective's cheek fell over Light's back.

He heard the agent moan his last. "…Ryuzaki."

There was no response.

He heard a heartbeat becoming erratic. Light, however, did not attempt to look at the man. He only called his name again, "Ryuzaki," in a soft voice.

The detective lifted his head, though did not answer the young man's question. His lips pushed against the back of Light's neck and kissed him, delicate, a somewhat unemotional gesture, as though an action to bid farewell. The grayish tone of his eyes seemed to cloud to an obscure hue of black, and he, wordlessly, lifted himself from his counterpart's backside. Light, confused, turned his face in the man's direction. Eye contact was not made. The detective would not look at him.

"Ryuzaki…" He straightened and moved his arms around the detective. The embrace was not returned. Light withdrew, but kept his arms around the man's shoulders. He stared. This sudden unwillingness – what was it? His heart became erratic as he could not help but reminded of that night, the night where the detective announced his victory.

He swallowed. "What is it?"

_A voice in his head, "More bad news."_

Ryuzaki frowned. He looked back. "I plan on telling them soon, Light-kun," he murmured. "…Within two days." A pause. "…I'm sorry."

Quiet, but not for long. A breath left Light in a quiver. His eyes rounded. "…Two days," he echoed in something lesser than a whisper.

The detective made no sign of acknowledgement, nothing but a muttered, "Yes."

At this, the hue of Light's eyes took on a new character. The chestnut pigmentation of his stare was overpowered by a tone of red, and his rounded gaze no longer splayed an image of innocence; now, there was anger. His arms tightened around the detective's frame in anything but a symbol of affection - frustration. He embraced tighter in infuriation. With intent, prodding eyes, he stared into the other man's face. Resentment was clear on his face, etched precisely in hardening features.

He uttered, low, "I _spared_ your life," he said. "I didn't kill you, and this is how am I repaid?!"

Ryuzaki, now, looked at him.

This was Kira.  
"Repay you? Why would I repay Kira?" He paused for a moment. "I can understand that by repaying Kira, I would be, technically, repaying Yagami-kun, but – no. I would never benefit both."

Light pulled away. He shot his eyes aside. "…Bastard."

The detective quieted.

He heard another word, "Unbelievable."

He dared to say more, "It is my obligation, Light-kun."

Light shot his eyes to him. "What is more important?! Your obligations as a detective or our relationship?"

Silence.

That question…How was he to answer such a question?

He thought carefully.

Putting an end to Kira's reign of "righteous judgment" had to be done; without a doubt, letting the reign persist was unacceptable, for the sake of the world and for the sake of true justice. But, then again, there was his relationship with the agent. Both of them were well aware of the infatuation that had grown between them, the true romance and adoration that they began to feel for one another. Rarely, now, were these affairs tests and experiments on the "enemy." …What was more important to him. His duties as an enforcer of law and order, or his obligations to Yagami-kun as a lover? The detective bowed his head in thought, as though crestfallen. He uttered no word of response to the other man's demand, and thus compelled a sharp sigh to escape Light's lips. He listened to the younger agent shuffle from the extended passenger's seat and move past the detective. He fumbled for his clothing amidst the scattered garments splayed over the dashboard, and he dressed himself in a hurry.

Light whispered again, "Unbelievable."

He shook his head. He did not bother to neither zip up his windbreaker, nor tie the shoestrings of his sneakers, apathetic and angered by the detective's hesitation to respond. He set the key in the ignition. The engine started, but he did not move the vehicle. "I'm disgusted, Ryuzaki."

The detective looked at him, at those reddish-brown eyes. He became infected by that broken tone of the agent's voice, that tone that alluded to a sense of hurt and sorrow; he winced, nearly, when he realized that he may have upset the younger man - terribly. He started to speak, but hesitated as Light suddenly looked away.

Ryuzaki leaned forward. "…I care about you, Light-kun. You know I do."

Light scoffed. "Do I? I'm doubtful now…" He met his eyes. Ache was as clear as a color on his face, and evident in his furrowed brow and drooped, saddened stare. Still, there was a hint of frustration in his dismayed features. His hands tensed on the steering wheel. "Why would you end Kira if you would end me as well?"

The detective paused. "…I – I must."

And that was the horrible truth.

As a detective, he had to.

And he hated that.

Light shot his eyes away. His eyelids fell as his forehead fell against the steering wheel and a noise broke from his throat, as his hands trembled to grasp the wheel any tighter and his frame shuddered in whelming emotion. Again, the detective was infected by such distraught behavior from the one he loved; internally, his heart had sunk, or even broken – no, shattered. He inched towards the agent with a sort of meekness, shy to show his affection, as though afraid to witness the other man's reaction. Nonetheless, he leaned himself forward, and his lips brought a kiss to the side of Light's face. Light only twitched. He didn't bother to return the gesture. His emotion had gotten the best of him.

Why, why did it have to be this way?

For a moment, he regretted his persona as Kira.

He hated how he had fallen in love with Ryuzaki.

How their days were ending.

How obligations insisted on his condemnation.

_Everything._

Beneath the sound of a purring engine, Light grunted. Again, he shivered, and tensed when he felt an arm move around him. He writhed from beneath it, though kept his head down.

Not now.

He felt sick.

And as much as he loved this man, he wanted to be away from him.

Far away.

* * *

Review!

**L'Adore.**


	16. XVI: Cake

**A/N: **Gahh', sorry about the wait. Schoolwork has been piling up for some reason, but I haven't forgotten about you all or this story.

Anyways, enjoy the chapter!

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen: Cake**

Light felt utterly vacant, as though someone had exhausted him of all the emotions once welled within him and let them seep to the shower drain at his feet. He was neither aware of how long he had been standing stock-still behind this emerald colored shower curtain, nor how long water had persisted to cascade against the side of his face and neck; truly, quite frankly, he could care less about such things. His eyes seemed sagged on his face with his eyelids drooped, his lips a little parted and moistened by sprinkles of water droplets. A sponge in one of his hands was barely being clasped, and it slipped from his weak fingers. He didn't bother to retrieve it. He sighed.

The humid, ascending wisps of water vapor now made him lightheaded, and he felt as if his breathing was becoming shallow. With a small noise of a sort of fatigue, Light, intuitively, let his form lean back into the shower wall. He became lax. His head, too, tilted backwards as a sigh escaped his lips. Water continued to surge onto him. For once, the water was not a soothing agent; it did not wash away his distress.

He cringed.

His distress was the product of what the detective had said to him, and what he had _not_ said. Light felt doubtful as to if he meant much, or anything, to the man - if the affairs that made up their relationship were still, to Ryuzaki, just experiments to further understand the makeup of Yagami Light and Kira. Or was he wrong? Did Ryuzaki, sincerely, feel as though legitimate affection served as the foundation of their bond? What was it?

That is what his mind was distraught over, and what he desperately wanted to know.

Light sighed again.

He remembered, the other night...

_"I plan on telling them soon, Light-kun," Ryuzaki had said. "Within two days. I'm sorry."_

_Light had echoed, "Two days," in barely a voice at all._

_There had been a pause. "…Yes."_

Light shut his eyes, and remembered more.

_He remembered uttering with rising resentment, "I spared your life. I didn't kill you, and this is how I am repaid?!"_

_"Repay you?" the inquiry. "Why would I repay Kira?" Later, "It is my obligation." _

_"What is more important?!" Light had retorted. "Your obligations as a detective or our relationship?"_

The man's promise still troubled him.

_"I plan on telling them soon, Light-kun."_

_He would tell the Task Force within two days._

At this thought, Light shot his hands to the shower's faucets. For a moment, he held there with taut, tensed fingers and a bowed head, never minding the streams of water that proceeded to cascade upon his brunette locks and soak his hair.

He hated feeling like this.

He grunted, and shut off the shower. Hues of heat became aflame in his malevolence-deepening stare, and resentment for the detective wrenched at his insides.

A voice in his head, "The notebook. Just kill him."

Kira's voice.

Another one, "Don't. Think of who you would lose."

He tensed. The fire in his eyes subsided. If he did choose to kill Ryuzaki, he feared he would become agonized by the man's demise, and he knew that some of the Task Force had already suspected him of being Kira. If he killed him, he would surely be placed under heavier suspicion. Killing him may be too much of a risk…

Frantic knocks at the bathroom door broke him from his thoughts.

He shot his eyes aside.

"Light? Are you coming? It's getting late," a tentative inquiry. "…I'm lonely."

Misa.

Light stood. His shoulders dropped. "I'll be there shortly," he barely replied.

Pushing the shower curtain back, he stepped out.

He had mere days to make up his mind.

xXx

From underneath the bed sheets, Misa touched her lover's hand. She took a look at his face with concern etched into her own pretty features, her softly rouged lips formed into a pucker of worry and her brow furrowed. She eased her slender frame further against Light's supportive form, but he appeared to be too engrossed in his own contemplations to counter with any affectionate gesture. With an infantile whine, she grasped his hand tighter. Light, then, looked the other way. She frowned, and used her other hand to touch his face.

"Light, you seem sick or something. You're a little pale," she whispered. She started to move. "Misa will get you some water."

"No," he stopped her softly. He turned his face in her direction. "I'm…just tired."

She hesitated. "Ohh?" Her eyes rounded. "Are you sure?"

There was a pause. He forced a small smile and brought a hand to the back of her head. He guided her face close to his own, and planted a warm kiss against her cheek. He chuckled quietly. "Don't worry. I'm fine."

His loveless kiss was enough to make her swoon; being too airheaded, she could not sense the fakeness in his action. She let out a flirtatious giggle at him and cuddled against him. "Okay, Light," she murmured to him in sing-song. She gave a kiss to his arm. "Goodnight."

Light waited for her eyes to close.

His smile faded.

He looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes.

With a sigh, he attempted to clear his mind, but nevertheless, no aspect slumber would come easy to him. His psyche was frayed; his mind - a swirling, chaotic muddle of haunting memoirs, words, and occurrences. He recollected the affair in the car - how the detective had told him that reporting Kira was his obligation, how he had hesitated to state that their relationship was more important than his duties, and how he never gave him a true answer. Frustration attacked him. He could not lie here in hopes that such distress would just dissipate. He needed to be alone. Suddenly, he wasn't so tired.

Moving with caution, he eased himself from beneath the bed sheets and rose to his feet. He donned a pair of flannel shorts, and as he did so, his lover started to whimper in her light sleep, her hand skirting around the mattress in hopes to touch his side; however, she found nothing, and fluttered open her eyes.

"Mm'…Light?"

He was quick to lean down and kiss her forehead. "I won't be long."

Her lips made a small yawn. "But, you need rest."

"I know. I will be back, Misa. Soon." He stroked her. "Shhh."

She calmed, and her form relaxed atop the mattress as he pulled the linen sheets over her. A smile brightened her tired features.

"Okay…'Night," she bid farewell to him softly.

He started to frown.

"…Goodnight, Misa."

_xXx_

It was ironic. He had wanted to liberate himself of the detective's presence ever since the man had failed to call their relationship the more important in his life, and now Light found himself ambling about the hallway in the direction of the man's room. It was an unintentional act, he admitted, yet still, for some reason, he did not want to turn around. For some reason, he couldn't. He kept on like a machine, programmed to advance down the corridor. He kept his head subtly bowed, vaguely noting the eerie shadows cast against the wall by rays of moonlight that seeped through the windows. A frown was still present on his distress-ridden features, and emphasized the entire array of emotions welled up within him.

He continued forth until a door opened not far from his position; on instinct, he held his breath and froze. A man, likewise clad in his nightly attire, stepped out and started to stride down the hall. However, upon seeing Light, the person stopped and stared.

Not a word was spoken for a short moment.

"…Light?"

Light blinked. It was his father. "Tousan?"

Soichiro approached his son. "Light," he laid a hand on his shoulder. "Light? What are you doing at this hour? You should be in your room."

Light glanced elsewhere. He lied, "I know. I'm aware. I wanted to speak with Ryuzaki earlier, however, I failed to remember something when I was with him, and now that I've recalled it, I need to tell him." He made eye contact. "I shouldn't be long, Father."

His father watched him intently. "Right. Alright." He dropped his hand. "…He should be awake, anyhow."

Light gave a nod. "…Good."

Soichiro started to depart. "Don't take too long."

No answer.

He waited until his father was out of earshot, and then started for the detective's room.

_Now_, he didn't want to see him. Hell, he didn't have a legit reason to see him. How would the detective react to him, appearing at the entrance without a reason or any sort of motivation, just because he felt a psychological desire to see him? Would that make sense, or would he only look like a fool?

Light stood before the door.

He bit his lip.

A hand reached out to knock against the frame, but his fist paused in midair.

The door opened. The detective was there.

Ryuzaki's eyes, instantly, lifted to Light's.

"Light-kun."

Light's eyes rounded. His breath hitched. "I-I…"

"I heard you conversing with your father just moments ago. I apologize for eavesdropping," the detective told him calmly. "You wanted to tell me something?"

Hesitation ensued. He straightened a little, but the seeming boost of confidence was overridden by his downcast eyes and quiet voice. He admitted, "No…No, I – I don't have anything to tell you."

Ryuzaki was silent, wordlessly begging clarification.

Light went on, "…I don't know why I came to see you, truthfully."

The detective smiled, subtly. He bowed his head in attempt to hide it.

"I understand…Come inside anyways."

Light lifted his eyes. He understood him?

Ryuzaki had started to move deeper into his room, and the agent was expected to follow him. Tentative, he forced his legs to act and his feet to carry him inside. He was courteous to close the door behind him. He watched the detective settle on the cushion of a suede armchair; as usual, of course, he was positioned in his hunched, inelegant posture. Light moved to the armchair closest to the man and descended. He sat with a sort of poise, though tense and distraught, both of which were clear as color in his face.

For a while, neither one of them spoke.

Light asked himself, _"Why am I here?"_

He spoke. "…Ryuzaki."

"Hmm?"

Light looked at him. His stare infected the other man; so evidently, frustration, anger, distress, and misery had merged within the hue of his eyes, and rendered them wearied jewels on his handsome face. The detective suppressed his wrenched heart with a slight tilt of his head, to wordlessly question the agent's expression, for his voice would be too broken to ask. In a sudden motion, Light arose from his chair and embraced the other man. His hold was firm, his breathing faltering, quiet by Ryuzaki's ear. He eased the detective's head against his chest and let the sides of their faces graze in a gentle gesture of affection. Ryuzaki felt unsure lips kiss the side of his neck.

He kept his eyes down. "Light-kun."

Light held him tighter. "I apologize for being too firm with you earlier. In the car. I was scared. I was afraid that I that I had been misled, that you did not feel the way I feel about you…" He paused. "I hope you can forgive me."

Ryuzaki lifted his eyes. This apology, this seemingly sincere attempt to seek his forgiveness – he had not expected to hear it; well, at least, not tonight. It had him confused. Yagami-kun was apologizing for his somewhat rash behavior from hours prior, but, he knew, this was not to say that Kira was feeling apologetic as well. He could not fall prey to the assumption that Kira would not overpower the innocence and affection of Yagami-kun's character, and motivate him to enter his name into his notebook.

Though, now, he would forgive the agent for what he had done, but remain wary.

The detective nodded. "I forgive you, Light-kun. You didn't have to apologize," he whispered, returning the agent's embrace. "I understand where your tension derived from. You were frustrated, and afraid." He kissed his cheek. "It's fine. You haven't been misled."

Light smiled. "Thank you, Ryuzaki." He leaned back to search the man's pale face, to look into the depths of his grayish stare partially concealed behind wisps of his unkempt locks of hair. He laughed a little. "I know it's only been a couple hours, but I've missed you."

A soft smile was subtly mirrored. "As have I," Ryuzaki murmured. One his hands scaled the agent's arm, his pale fingers grazing the flesh until he reached his shoulder. An idea stuck him. "Fancy a little cake?"

Light's eyes rounded, barely. "At such an hour? I don't think I'd be able to go back to sleep if I had any." His expression was apologetic. "I'd have to pass."

"Well, you wouldn't have to eat much. I'll treat myself to a majority of it."

Eroticism flickered in his eyes.

"What do you say now?"

The agent's heart missed a beat.

Impassively, his smile widened.

Light gave a nod. "…I'd love to."

_xXx_

The locale was a simple one; in fact, it was a room that was connected with the previous, separated by a doorframe. A single table was the focal point of the entire setting, and it was garnished with various platters of food, the usual cake and tea. A lone lamp situated on a far counter was the only source of illumination for the room, and the rest depended on the hints of moonlight that sought to shine through the windows, past the blinds to wash onto the floor. The detective seemed to be engrossed by the image of desserts, continuing past the threshold in some sort of mesmerized trance without a word to invite Light to accompany him. Nevertheless, Light followed with a subtle smile fixed on his lips. He moved to the other man's side and started to sit himself at one end of the table, but Ryuzaki set a pale hand against his stomach to halt him. Their eyes met; the detective clarified.

"Sit yourself on the floor, Light-kun. I ensure you that it's clean," he told him. He moved closer to the table. "…I have something in mind."

Light blinked.

_On the floor?_

Despite his internal objections towards the man's soft-spoken order, he complied with him anyways and descended upon the kitchen area's tiled flooring, flinching a little when the flesh of his leg not covered by his shorts contacted the ground.

He shivered. "You have something in mind?"

The detective did not respond for a moment; but, indeed, the agent was right. He did have something in mind. He wanted to eradicate the distraught, the agony, the frustration – the whatever – that tore at the agent's psyche. He wanted to make him feel, for the lack of a better term, good, and he wanted to do so via another method besides regular lovemaking in bed, embracing one another against a wall, or fervently kissing the younger man. He took a dish of cake in his hands. The dessert was a delectable slice with the flavor of buttercream and elegant white icing. Now, he turned and started to move towards Light. He moved somewhat warily as though the cake were so priceless. Hunching at the agent's side, he eyed the food. "We're going to defy the rule that tells us to never play with our food, Light-kun," he said lowly. "…You'll enjoy this."

He moved closer. With his index finger, he dabbed up a bit of frosting at the tip and leaned forward. One of his hands released the dish to take the hem of the agent's shirt, to lift it up and to touch the muscle of his abdomen. He smeared the frosting just above his bellybutton in an inelegant arch. Ryuzaki was already biting his lip, humming to himself.

"Mmmm." Indeed, Light looked delicious.

Light, on reflex, pulled his stomach in and, too, bit his lip. He let out a little groan and shyly met the detective's eyes, exhaling softly as he felt his cheeks redden in a pale rouge. He watched the other man lower the dish to the ground, and a small sound resounded in his throat as the detective took his hips, and moved closer. He heard the man whisper, "Relax," and he let his form unwind, a little, but he tensed again when Ryuzaki lowered his mouth over his stomach and kissed, purposely missing the place on his flesh where he had smeared the vanilla frosting. The detective, right now, was occupied, savoring the little concave groove of his bellybutton. Indeed, he was enjoying himself, and took a moment to tell Light, "Lean back."

Light leaned onto his back. To aid, he pulled up his shirt further, exposing his entire chest, torso, and abdomen to the other man without a sense of hesitation. A sense of desire had started to course through his veins, compelling him to spread his legs and welcome the detective to crawl in between them. He felt his heart rate accelerate, all in the name of glorious eroticism; yearning, lust, and fervor all inclusive in this slowly-whelming sensation. At the moment the detective kissed his stomach even deeper and started to smother his flesh, he let out a long moan. It tickled and sent shivers down his spine, but managed to compel arousal to attack him. He moaned again.

"Ohhh. Uhnn'…"

It felt so good.

He whined, "Ryuzaki."

Ryuzaki's mouth worked hungrily to devour the bit of icing he had set on Light's skin. He would not waste an ounce. His tongue slipped out and dragged across the flesh, leaving a trail of warm saliva where the frosting had once appeared. Light flushed deeper. He reached a hand for the platter of cake and let his fingers collect a piece of the dessert, to lift it to the center of his chest. The detective looked up at it with wide eyes, enticed by the dessert's savory appearance, as though he were a child gawking at tempting bonbons. He leaned up, after bidding farewell to Light's stomach with a small kiss, and he used his hands to smear the cake into his chest. Bits of the dessert's fluffy bread dispersed atop his skin; frosting, again, smudged.

He licked his lips. "Mmmm. Light-kun…You're delicious."

Light moaned. He took a tiny piece of the cake between his fingers and lifted it to the other man, whose tongue sought to slip forth and lap up the morsel of the sweet food. Light laughed softly, but his chuckles soon merged into sounds of pleasure as the detective's lips moved over his flesh again, on his chest, acting as a vacuum as his tongue behaved like a hot, slippery mop of some sort, cleaning his skin of any traces of cake, gently. At times, Ryuzaki would moan into his chest and pucker his lips to better savor the sweet essences; the sounds would rattle Light's ribcage. In turn, Light would laugh and moan at the tickling, pleasurous sensations.

He smiled as the detective kissed his way up to his neck, pausing there to lick over the rigid texture of his throat before advancing to his mouth. However, he was not so quick to gather his lips in a kiss. Their mouths remained a tiny breadth away from each other for seconds. Light shivered as the other man breathed into him, and he bit his lip, no longer able to contain himself. He pulled up and kissed Ryuzaki with great passion. Their lips collected. He groaned loudly, tasting every corner and contour of the man's mouth. Their tongues massaged and rubbed; saliva leaked and trickled.

"Uhnn'. Ohhh. Nn'...Nn'," he moaned. "Yes."

Such fervor.

The detective's lips were flavored with the very much addicting taste of the cake's vanilla icing. The taste deepened the hunger in Light, and he intensified their kiss, widening the space between his lips. He invited the other man's tongue to slip forth and delve into his mouth. Ryuzaki's tongue was, certainly, willing to push forth; it moved to the depths of the agent's mouth. Light shut his eyes as the heat in his cheeks deepened. He cried out softly, a low "Ohh" and "Nnn'," all as the detective's hand rose to his chest. Ryuzaki smudged the frosting and pieces of cake against the agent's flesh, on accident. He really sought to tease the other man, by fondling with his nipples. He smiled inwardly.

Light cried out. "Ohhh. R-Ryuzaki…Nnn'." He exhaled; the breath shook in his ecstasy. His fingers closed around the man's shoulders. He separated their lips and lie back down. "Mmmm."

The detective paid no mind to the saliva that had smudged on his chin and by his cheek, instead diverting his attention to the agent's chest, smeared with the buttercream cake's bread and frosting.

"Delicious," he whispered.

He started at the middle of this sweet chaos, closing his lips over a morsel of the dessert. He chewed on it quickly and moved on to another section. His tongue worked at the disordered arches of icing that he had smudged into Light's chest, dragging along the disorganized bends and bows of frosting, lapping up bits of cake bread on the way. Light not only found himself moaning at the man's work, but smiling and laughing quietly as well. He let his head fall to one side, and he suddenly craved a greater sense of sexual excitement. This no longer sufficed, the desirous part of his brain told him. He, now, wanted more.

His hand fluttered by his pajama shorts and started to tug at the fabric; thankfully, the flannel material took little to no effort in pulling down. To the detective, he exposed his underwear. A bulge was proof of his insistent erection, his arousal. He let his own hands graze over the area of his crotch, and his fingers quaked over the area. His needs were growing. He needed to relieve himself.

"Ryuzaki-san…"

Ryuzaki finished his work at the agent's chest; it was clean now, with the exception to the traces of saliva that he left behind. His eyes scaled the length of Light's arm until his stare found the younger man's hand, and where it had gone. Light's hand had slipped beyond the elastic band of his underwear, and was, most definitely, stroking his member. He was stimulating himself even more. The action was to serve as a wordless plea to the detective, to gesture to the man to take their affair one step further. Ryuzaki, with no difficulty, understood what the agent hoped to imply. He brought his face a little ways above the area of Light's underwear, and let his hands pull the small garment down.

A quiet laugh of arousal from Light soon became a moan of yearning. He moved his own hand away from his member in surrender to the other man; gladly, the detective closed one set of fingers around his counterpart's erection and caressed its flesh slowly. Light groaned as he lay back down, and the noise intensified when Ryuzaki kissed his member. He heard the detective hum in satisfaction, listened to him moan as he kissed again, as his tongue came forth.

"Mmm. Uhnn'…"

Light shivered. "Ohhh. _Yes_. Go on…"

Ryuzaki paused. He turned his face aside to the dish of buttercream cake, and evidently, an idea brightened his pale face.

Why not try something new?

Something exciting.

He slid the platter closer to him at a more convenient distance. With no more than a couple fingers, he took up some of the cake in a delicate grasp and brought it towards Light's member.

He smiled. "Light-kun…"

Light breathed a little quicker.

The detective smeared vanilla frosting against Light's erection. Bits of cake bread, some unable to remain stuck to the white icing, tumbled softly to the base of his member. The flesh was not entirely covered in the sweet dessert, as though Ryuzaki did not want to overpower the already-delicious essence of the agent's flesh. He packaged a little more frosting against Light's member, and then pushed the dish aside. His stare had widened, engrossed by the image, his work.

It was the _ultimate_ dessert.

He licked his lips.

Light flushed deeper. His hands quaked on top of his chest.

"Ohhh…"

He felt a mouth slip over the head. It insisted on scaling, moving downward; it would not waste an ounce of the cake, and hungrily, it pumped his erection. The other man's tongue pushed and rubbed against his warming flesh, forcing hot saliva to moisten his member. The sensation was whelming; Light felt his vision blur as heat engulfed him – a telltale sign of orgasm. Still, he craved great stimulation, and let one of his hands work against his own chest, teasing his nipples, massaging into his skin. It was not long until the detective's hand started to rub into his thigh. Subsequently, Light touched himself with greater gusto.

He moaned. "Ohhh. Ryuzaki-san," he panted. "Nnn'…Yes. Yes."

The feeling was too damn good.

Ryuzaki lifted his eyes to his counterpart. He was unable to flash a smile to his stimulated agent, but nevertheless, a smile was evident in his grayish stare, which was odd, considering that his eyes normally portrayed a sort of impassiveness. He let a deep hum of pleasure tumble from his throat as his desire for Light's member greatened, as did his desire for the dessert that garnished it. His mouth worked quicker, sharper, and more precise. He let his head angle to one side, to such a degree that would allow him to intake more of his counterpart's erection. Subtly, his brow furrowed as the member was able to move deep within him; he did not gag, however. He devoured it.

"Mmmm."

Light, now, was utterly aroused. He twitched in great, fervent eroticism, unable to suppress a lengthy cry that escaped him. With each of the detective's pumps, and each time Ryuzaki's tongue lapped at his member, small noises would leave him. Tiny whimpers and whines, moans, groans, hums of his pleasure... The detective _loved_ them. They were too cute, and at the same time, too arousing.

Light turned his head aside and gasped for a deep breath. His eyelids were fluttering.

"Ohh. Uhnn'. R-Ryuzaki…" He paused and closed his eyes. He brought a hand to his mouth and wet his fingers. He touched his own chest again. His second hand joined. "Ohh!"

Ryuzaki smiled inwardly. He brought his mouth to the head.

Devilishly, he slowly licked – around and around, from side-to-side, to and fro.

Light cried out.

He grasped his chest in such pleasure.

His breathing became erratic. "…I-I'm…I-I'm nearly there. _Almost_."

His words were a cue; the detective moved his mouth to the base of his counterpart's member, devouring any traces of dessert that had before evaded his eager lips. He could sense the warmth of the agent's erection radiating against his tongue; though it was not exceedingly evident, it was there. Light shuddered, and his hands suddenly lashed forward to take the detective's face in a delicate, yet fervent hold. He let his head fall back as he released a cry, one that soon became a moan as hot liquid surged from his member. He did not sense the fluid scale his erection, for it was willingly consumed by the other man, swallowed gladly.

"Ohh!"

At the moment he was certain his release had departed him, Light grew lax. His hands fell from either side of the detective's face, and he did only so much as to utter a small whimper or two as the man cleaned the head of his erection with his tongue. He laid on the floor breathing aloud, his hands resting atop his heaving chest. Ryuzaki arose onto all fours and stood over him; again, there was a smile in his stare. There was a moment where he did nothing to Light, remaining wordless as he looked over the younger man's flushed, although beauteous face. He, then, smothered the agent's mouth with a passionate kiss, turning his head to one side to happily welcome Light's eager tongue against his own. Ryuzaki moaned, and Light echoed. He brought a pale hand to the side of the agent's face. He caressed his cheek slowly. The kiss ended softly.

He licked his lips. "…Stay for the night."

Light donned a subtle look of apology. "I wish I could, but Misa expects me to return." His eyes seemed to deeply search the other man's. "I told her I would be back."

"I'm sure you could conjure up a rational excuse," Ryuzaki whispered.

Now, he smiled wider.

Light could not help but return the smile. He caught his breath. "Well…I could. Yes."

"Then, do so," the detective prodded. "And if she comes looking for you, I'll make an excuse to keep you through the night with me." He kissed him. "Yes?"

Light gave a nod. His arms fell around the detective, and drew him close against his body. "Yes." His smile widened. "I wouldn't want to leave you anyways."

Ryuzaki's eyes brightened. "I thought so." He took the platter of cake in his hands and dabbed a bit of frosting on the tip of his finger. He brought it to Light's mouth. Light laughed at him softly, shortly, before licking the icing away. The detective smiled again, watching him with amiability in his gaze and hidden ache inside him.

_How in the world was he supposed to turn in this man?_

He lowered the dish of cake to embrace Light, who, with another laugh, returned the hug. Ryuzaki kept his face close beside his counterpart's. This embrace was more than a simple hug, he believed. In it, he could sense so much of the other man; his breaths were calming as was his once-erratic heart, and he felt as though they were conforming. The detective knew it was a little cliché to contemplate in such a way, but he never minded that.

Light whispered, "I had fun, Ryuzaki-san."

The detective nodded. "I'm glad you did."

Light pulled away gently and arose after pulling up his shorts, clasping one of Ryuzaki's hands to pull the man to his feet.

"Let's go," Light prodded softly.

The detective refused to leave the plate of cake unguarded, and snatched it up before he stood. Light laughed at such childlike behavior.

He pulled him along quicker in the direction of the bedroom.

Perhaps they were not finished quite yet.

* * *

Review!


	17. XVII: Hell

**A/N: **A rather tragic chapter, though it's only beginning.

_And, at the start of the chapter, the italics symbolize dreaming._

Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen: Hell **

_Slow and gentle, the detective entered his love as a passionate cry broke from his lips. A small, broken groan of arousal escaped Light and was echoed back up to Ryuzaki, a rebounding chorus of romance, of their he now agent made compelled the detective to ease himself forward, to wean away from any little uncertainties and let his member delve into the other man's entrance - to strive to protrude the depths, and such was induced upon his lover. Light, on his back, writhed into the mattress as another sound left his throat, one provoked by the fervent stimulation that now coursed through his veins. The heat that had settled in his cheeks had once appeared as a light-pink hue on his face, and it now had deepened a much redder color. _

_With a gasp for air, he shivered as the detective started to pump him faster; the thrusting was a quick, precise cadence, quicker and rougher than times before. Light felt the unmistakable sensation of orgasm begin to whelm his senses much sooner than usual. _

_The small noises he uttered with each of the detective's thrusts became louder and longer, his eyes shut and he felt beads of sweat mat locks of his brunette hair to his forehead. He kept calling out the other man's name in his arousal, his hands clawing at the bed, his form shivering. He could barely breath, and his heart hammered._

_"Ohh! Ryuzaki-san! Ryuzaki…!" he cried. "I-I'm almost…I'm almost there. Almost…"_

…

"Almost there…Ryu-Ryuzaki." He was awaken from his erotic dream by the sound of his own tone of voice, and the fervent arousal that had caused saliva to leak from a corner of his mouth and dampen his pillow. He was able to wipe the liquid from the side of his face with reluctance as he noticed the realism that was now around him, and the morning sun's radiance stung his reddish-brown eyes. He turned his face away with a groan. Now, he remembered where he was; of course, in the detective's room. Light smiled upon recalling the previous night's romantic endeavors, and started to turn onto his other side. His smile widened, his hand skirting the mattress in search of the detective's back, his hand…

"Good morning."

His eyes rounded.

The detective was not there.

The linen sheets were disheveled and a subtle imprint in the pillow's fabric all alluded to the detective's previous attendance and presence at Light's side; but, quite frankly, none of that mattered. Now, at this moment, he was not here. He was gone, out of the room, most likely.

Light shot up.

With the others…

His round eyes looked about the room in a frenetic search for the other man, as though his spirits were high in expectance to see the detective standing around, or as though Light waited to hear the other man's monotone voice calling his name to ensure that he had awaken. But, no, there was no telltale sign, needless to say a subtle clue. The man was not in this room, and with a shaking breath passing his lips, Light shot his eyes aside, and called, "Ryuzaki-san!"

But, his desperate voice bounced off the walls, alone.

No other one responded.

Light pushed the linen sheets from his form, and a billow of cool air swept over his unclothed body; on instinct, he flinched a little. He had forgotten that he had slept without any sort of night garments on, due to his sexual stimulation that refused to depart from him during the previous evening. He shook his head. That had to be forgotten for now, and he arose with a newfound desperation to see the detective. His flannel shorts and tee-shirt had been folded at the nightstand beside him, and he donned them quickly before starting out the bedroom. A quick hand ran through his hair as an exasperated sigh escaped him. He weaved about the rooms with an absorbent stare and troubled psyche; damnit, where could he be?

"Ryuzaki?!"

Quiet.

He moved faster.

His bare feet's patter quickened against the ground. He thought: The detective could be in the kitchen occupied with dishes of sweet-treats and tea, or perhaps he had ventured outside or somewhere beyond the simple parameters of the room, to converse…Light swore. The detective could be with the Task Force. The man had, indeed, promised to tell the other agents of his alias within two days, and he had promised to do so yesterday.

His heart raced.

He ran for the entrance.

No. He couldn't tell them today.

Not like this. He wouldn't let him. Kira wouldn't.

The entrance was so close. He had to stop him.

But, no, there was something there. A letter.

A note taped to the doorframe.

He took the slip of paper.

A noise of distress broke from him.

It read, _"I love you, Light-kun, but I'm sorry."_

It was over.

xXx

How much he hated this meeting could not be expressed in any amalgamation of words. Words, for a distressful situation akin to the one that had him ensnared right now, were not powerful enough to express his dismay. Nonetheless, protocol left him no choice but to summon the Task Force in a rendezvous, one without Light's consent or knowing, and he had done so out of great unwillingness and opposition; truly, he felt a sort of ache wrench at his heart as he watched the agents enter the room. Whenever they insisted on prodding him for clarification, demanding to know why exactly he had called upon them, he remained silent. Whenever they attacked him with their fervent inquiries, he would not respond. His stalling made it seem as though the topic of the meeting was terribly burdening.

And it was. Ryuzaki felt so.

The topic was burdening, to such a degree that speaking would unleash a rush of remorse through his veins; the words were, all, right there, at the tip of his tongue, and yet he could not speak them. Matsuda had had enough, in spite of the man's supposed dismay. He moved beyond the cluster of agents and stood before Ryuzaki with avid insistence alive in his eyes.

He leaned forward. "Ryuzaki-san. _What_ do you want to tell us?" his voice was firm, though still somewhat empathetic. A hand arched behind him in a gesture of urging. "We've been waiting for long enough...Just tell us."

The detective kept his eyes down. "If only the news were so easy to disclose," he responded in a monotone murmur. Unconscious, he lifted his stare to the Vice Director, Light's father, as though to allude to the yet-to-be-spoken, the news of Kira's alias. The chief's eyes rounded in misunderstanding behind his spectacles; why had he looked at him? He started to question him, to demandingly coax the detective into ceasing his equivocal behavior and no longer withhold the information from the awaiting group, but Ryuzaki intentionally spoke before he could. "It regards you son, Yagami-san," he said. "Light…"

All eyes directed to Soichiro.

The chief stood. "My son? What of him?"

He paused.

Something struck him. He looked about the company of the room, all to notice that Light was absent from the crowd. He arose suddenly and opened his mouth to speak, though the tone of voice that left him was not entirely firm. It stammered with uncertainty, with apprehension and demand, "Why did you exclude him from this meeting? What is this about?!"

The detective continued to watch him.

Truthfully, inwardly, the man's demands clawed at him. Each one of the inquiries only advanced him one step closer to speaking the terrible revelation. In minutes, he would no longer be able to withhold the truth. He failed to conjure up a trace of relief by reminding himself that speaking the truth would all be done in the name of _justice_, for justice on this planet. His stare fell downcast as the Vice Director approached him with some sort of aura about him; without a doubt, Ryuzaki could sense its fiery atmosphere. It did not serve as a threat, however, and it did not compel him to speak.

Even when the chief's hand took a hold of his shoulder, he remained wordless. The man had to prod him a second time, with greater urgency and a longing to know.

"Tell me, Ryuzaki. Tell us," he uttered with a hint of pleading. "…What of Light?"

He could no longer hide.

This was it.

The moment he had so deeply dreaded from the second he had fallen in love.

Ryuzaki passed a sigh. "Your son, Yagami-san…"

A pause. The agents neared.

He looked at them all. "Your son is Kira."

Agonizing silence.

The chief's hand slid from the detective's shoulder gently, too gently, as though the man had been drained of every ounce of life once in him. A delicate fusion of disbelief and misunderstanding sought to ghost over his aged features, and he continued to stare at the detective as if expecting to hear that the information was a harmless practical joke, just a hoax; but, Ryuzaki said nothing more. This was the truth. After a moment, another agent, Aizawa, approached the chief and set a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. His face was not so much bewildered, though rather solemn. He could not say that the information was such a surprise to him. In fact, he had suspected Yagami-kun to be Kira weeks ago.

Nevertheless, he spoke compassionately, a short apology of, "I'm sorry."

Soichiro shook his head. His eyes fell. "Surely…Surely this is only another one of your accusations," he muttered with a bowing head. He tensed. "Please tell me that."

The detective refused to look at him. "I wish I could, Yagami-san. Truly." He turned his face to glance over his shoulder, to look at the man who stood behind him, Watari, and give a subtle nod in cue. The conversation about the agents became audible at nothing more than a collection of murmurs, and the chatter ceased to a hush once Ryuzaki redirected his attention back to them, his grayish eyes seeming wearied, though intent. He gave a near-silent sigh. Watari had moved to an end table beside his chair.

"I know some of you may not believe me, or at least right now you do not," Ryuzaki spoke to them. "I have created packages of documents for all of you skeptics." He paused. "Watari will distribute them."

A majority of the agents went to receive one; the package was thick, surely full of various documents and files that could, and most likely would, completely alter the minds and contemplations of the nonbelievers in the room. There was little talk as the agents sorted through the files. Most of them had their heads bowed and engaged as they interpreted, with exception to the Vice Director. His package had been opened and briefly scanned through, but it now was open it his lap, untouched. He stared at the ground; disbelief, dismay, and anger were in his face. The detective could understand such emotion. He looked away from the man, and someone spoke at him.

"These files…Why did you give them to us? Can't you just explain?"

Ryuzaki looked up. "…I'd rather not," he put simply. He decided to add, "I'm just as bewildered as most of you are, regardless of how long I have been suspicious of Light. It's a shock."

Silence again.

He said more, softer, "I'm sorry, Yagami-san."

Soichiro closed his eyes. A hand rose to cover his face, and he said nothing.

The detective sighed. "Divide into small units and look for Yagami-kun."

The agents looked at him.

Ryuzaki went on, "Search the building. Once he is found, arrest him, and bring him here."

_How the words hurt him so._

The Task Force assemblage set their packages on the coffee table before them, though some sought to bring the files with them. The units were formed practically wordlessly, and the detective kept his eyes in their direction as they assembled, but his mind was, truly, elsewhere. A part of him hoped that the agents would never find Light, or that somehow some tremendous miracle would occur, and suddenly Light was not Kira – it was someone else…What was he thinking. Foolishness; such things would never happen. Face it.

Watari tapped his shoulder. He was shaken back into reality, this terrible reality.

Ryuzaki nodded at the agents, cueing their leave.

And they departed. He watched some move their hands to the pockets as though searching for a weapon, others rummaging for a pair of handcuffs or a taser, perhaps – he didn't want to know. He was living a nightmare, quite frankly, and the damned dream would never end. It would continue until Light was gone forever, and beyond that, for the rest of his life. This agonizing ordeal would be everlasting; right now was just the beginning. Hunched in his chair, he pushed his knees further against his chest and, unconsciously, let his cheek fall against his kneecaps.

Light, Kira?

Of all people, _why him? _

_Why Light?_

Watari advanced. "Ryuzaki?" He touched the detective's side with a packet of the files, gentle. "Would you like to see one?"

"No," the hasty response, quiet. He paused. "…I've seen it plenty of times before."

That lie. It was true that he had seen the packages several times prior to this meeting, but he did want something else. He wanted the golden ticket to relieve him of the nightmare. He wanted the key that would unlock the door to an entirely different universe, one where Light was not Kira and the character of Kira was nonexistent, one where he could spend all of the time in the world with Light, never worrying, only loving.

He wanted nothing but that.

Nothing, but Light solely to himself.

xXx

The Chief's distress was fully comprehensible; the man had just found out that his _son_ was the owner of the alias "Kira," the abominable slaughterer who killed in the name of his outlook on supposed, righteous judgment. And now, orders had been given to seek Kira, arrest him, and bring him to the detective to be promptly escorted to his condemnation, his conviction. Matsuda paused in the corridor to spare a glimpse over his shoulder, to ensure that the Vice Direction was still following him close behind. The man had, however, paused as well. He did not make eye contact with his fellow agent. For moments, he kept his somber stare downcast. An empathetic flicker became alive in Matsuda's eyes, and he approached Soichiro in a wary manner, advancing in a slow stride.

"Yagami-san?" he whispered carefully.

The Vice Director looked up.

Matsuda could see dispirit in the man's eyes. He spoke in a soft, empathetic tone, "…I'm sorry, about Light-kun. I know 'sorry' isn't enough, but - "

Soichiro dismissed Matsuda's apology with a grunt, and a shake of his head. "I should not have never retorted against Ryuzaki's accusations in the past. Knowing who he is…" He paused to bow his head, as though crestfallen. His hands had long before become fists at his sides. "I'm just…shocked. But, even that is too weak of a word."

Matsuda frowned. He touched Soichiro's shoulder and, too, looked down. "It's a shock. Undoubtedly. I can't believe Light-kun…" his voice faded, as he stopped himself from speaking. His hand dropped, and he started down the corridor again. "Still…we have to find him. Ryuzaki's orders."

It took the chief a moment to regain himself, to obtain the pinnacle of his character, to only a certain extent, and follow the other agent down the hall. Though his motivation to comply with the detective's orders was practically nonexistent, as it pained him to seek to arrest his own son, he felt as though he had no option. He didn't. He tried to switch his mindset: He was en route to arrest _Kira_, not Light. Disregard the fact that the two are one human being, his son, and his own flesh and blood…

He made a cringe at that thought.

He lifted his eyes from the carpeted flooring, all to notice that the other man was heading in the direction of the detective's room. Soichiro quickened his strides to move next to Matsuda with gentle inquiry in his stare, and he spoke, "Here?"

Matsuda gave a nod. "Ryuzaki told me to check here first with you," he told him. "I'm not sure…He didn't give me a reason." One of his hands moved to the pocket of his suit to retrieve a ring of keys that the detective had given him, and his other rose to clutch the golden doorknob. He was not expecting it to be unlocked, but for no reason at all, for the Hell of it, he tried to turn the knob. His eyes rounded.

"The door's unlocked," he whispered. "Could someone…be here?"

Soichiro started to glance about the interior. Had Light been in here, or was it only coincidental that the door had been unlocked? He recollected; he remembered seeing Light in the corridor the previous night, and he remembered Light's intentions to see the detective, because he had "recalled" something that absolutely had to be told…

Unintentionally, without a deliberate reason, the chief moved past the other man and stepped beyond the room's threshold, and his eyes became vigilant from behind his spectacles in an intent lookout for his son, for Kira. He came upon a suede furnishings set around a coffee table; two chairs, and two small couches. One of the chairs was slightly unaligned with its opposite counterpart, and the chief only quirked the skeptical eyebrow in its direction.

A few feet away was the doorframe, one that served at the portal to the next room. From his position, he could only make out a small table. It was set with alluring white dishes and teacups, and a buttercream cake was the centerpiece. He was separated from his thoughts when the other agent called for him.

He turned. "What is it?"

Matsuda held a slip of paper in his hand. He waved it at the chief. "I just found this. It was lying on the counter." He strode to Soichiro's side, and read, "…'I love you, but I'm sorry?' His round eyes lifted.

The chief glanced at it. He echoed the words. "'I love you, but I'm sorry…' Perhaps Light offended Misa," he deduced. "It could be a note to her…He was undoubtedly here."

Matsuda made a sound of acknowledgement. "It could. I don't see what else it could be." He slipped the note into his pocket. "We should move on."

Soichiro gave a quick sigh, and whispered a reluctant "Yes" beneath the exhalation as a sense of burden returned to weigh his shoulders. He left Matsuda to investigate the room on his own and sought to enter the kitchen, looking about the tablescape with its several dishes, all accompanied by the traditional knife, fork, and delicate teacup; it was as though the detective had expected company the previous night, as though he had been awaiting his son's visit. A slice of the cake was missing, yet there was not one dirty dish in the sink. What had the two been up to the previous night? Could the letter be an apology to Misa, due to Light's decision to not return to his hotel room, but stay in the company of Ryuzaki?

The chief pondered on this, and forced himself to move on.

It didn't matter.

The information wouldn't help him find Light.

He started to walk again.

"Light?!"

He arrived at the bedroom. Matsuda had followed behind him, and kept an eye over his shoulder in the event that Kira would appear without warning. Soichiro, with slight tentativeness in his subtly quaking fingers, took hold of the doorknob and eased the door ajar. Inside, the blinds had not yet been opened, but nevertheless, the morning sun's radiance was able to seep through and radiate the room. The atmosphere was stock-still with the life of the inanimate, an almost eerie and peculiar spectacle. Not a thing shifted; there was no sense of movement, with exception to the disheveled linen sheets atop the double bed's mattress, and pillows that had faint imprints of those who had laid their heads down to sleep. Amid the entire locale, this was the only sense of movement.

Soichiro approached the bed to further look at it, to stare and eye the object, as though it could, miraculously, reveal something.

He shot a look aside. "Light?!"

There was no answer.

Matsuda was at his side. "Both pillows appeared to be used." He looked at the chief. "Did Light spend the night with Ryuzaki?"

Soichiro shook his head. "If he kept his word, he was to return to his room to be with Misa," he spoke quietly. "If he did not return to her, he just may have stood here overnight. Still, if he did stay here…" His eyes started to search the room. "Where is he?"

Matsuda, too, started to look. "Light-kun!"

Silence.

The chief tried to call again. Matsuda went for the bathroom.

"Light!"

"Light-kun!"

Beneath the bed; no one was there. In the closets; no one. Behind the curtains and the blinds; no one. Behind each and every piece of furniture, beside every appliance; no one. In the shower; no one. In a room full of computers and monitors, with various screens and gadgets; no one was there.

No one was here, but them.

xXx

He had run. There was no way he would return to that place and sit in all of his dismay, waiting for the Task Force to lash out at him with a pair of handcuffs and the nozzle of a handgun aimed for his face; there was no way in Hell he would return to that. But, no, he _would_ go back, had he meant _anything_ to the detective. It was too evident, painfully so. If Ryuzaki cared about their relationship more than his fervent compulsion to point the finger and convict Kira, how was he to explain _this?_ He couldn't. The detective wanted to kill _Kira_; the detective wanted to kill _him_. And Yagami-kun's heart crumbled at such a thought.

It was raining. Puddles had pooled in indentations on the weathered cement sidewalks, but he didn't care. He had moved into an alleyway to catch his breath, but that was futile. He couldn't, not with the distress of Yagami-kun merging with the infuriation of Kira. He felt sick at one moment, and fatigued at the next. He couldn't calm. Not until this was over, when he was finished. For a minute, he wanted death…No, he wanted Ryuzaki-san. He would be the remedy to cure his anguish.

He leaned into a building and slid to the base of the wall, all as an exasperated sigh was expelled from his lungs. He brought his knees against his chest; certainly, he could feel his erratic heart thudding against his legs, his faltering breaths pushing shallowly from his throat. Droplets of rain sought to dampen his brunette hair, and he bowed his head against his knees with a broken cry. His eyes fell shut. He clutched his sides.

He couldn't say he was crying. Not yet.

But, he knew, this was the unmistakable feeling of heartbreak.

Of anguish.

Of remorse.

Of infuriation.

Of Hell.

xXx

"Where is he?"

The detective watched the last of the agents take his seat; indeed, the entire Task Force was in attendance, but Light – _Kira_. He was still absent. A sense of prodding inquisition had become more apparent in the stare of his solemn eyes, and he looked from one face to the other, remaining silent in wait for someone to speak, to explain their failure to accomplish what he had so clearly ordered them to do. It was Soichiro who stood to relinquish the intelligence, to no longer delay, but to be the unfortunate bearer of "bad" news. With a small sigh forth, he lifted his bowed head and told, "He isn't to be found. He isn't here."

Something in the detective's eyes changed.

Soichiro continued. "He may have suspected our pursuit, and he may have escaped."

There was a pause. Ryuzaki looked down.

Still, the man went on, "It's unclear as to how he knew of this, and how he was able to evade." He hesitated as the detective rose from his seat and stepped away. "…But, he's gone."

"I'll contact him."

Soichiro straightened. "Would he have his phone with him?"

"Most likely. I don't see why he wouldn't," the murmured reply. "It is likely that he does. I will speak with him, and do everything in my power to bring him back here." He paused in front of a window to whisper, "I know he will listen to me."

Someone overheard his whisper. "Will he? Would he want to return if he knows we must arrest him?"

Silence.

The detective brought his thumb to his bottom lip and turned his face aside.

"…He will."

* * *

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**L'Adore.**


	18. XVIII: Last

**A/N: **_Their time together is slowly coming to an end._

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen: Last**

He could not stop staring at that parking space, and even through a vision becoming whelmed by the start of tears, he could clearly envision the detective's vehicle resting there, and the lovemaking that had ensued within that vehicle. He remembered the feeling of becoming dominated by the other man's fervent desire to enter him, the feeling of being forced to lie flat atop the leather chair with moans escaping, with stimulation coursing hotly through his veins. At that moment, nothing had mattered but the infatuation that permeated the warming atmosphere; the thought of the future, rather the _next day_, had not been in their minds. Light had not seen himself returning to this abandoned lot as he sought to evade the pursuing Task Force – but, here, alas, he was now. The rain had died down now to something a little heavier than a drizzle, and he had moved his hands into the pockets of his khakis. The precipitation had dampened his dark, long-sleeved sweater and his pants, but he didn't care.

He sat in front of the parking space with his eyes lowered. This situation was unbelievable; he could neither muster it, nor acknowledge it as reality. Right now, he had this yearning to be with Ryuzaki, and a longing for this nightmare to be finished. The very presence of the detective would be enough to cure his distraught heart - so he thought - and surely, romanticism would come upon them if he were given the chance to see him.

Light found his own hand stroking at the length of his arm, as though attempting to recreate the way the detective would caress him. He forced his hand away, however, and looked to the parking space yet again. If he could, he would rewind time, to the beginning, when Ryuzaki first induced those sensual acts upon him, those acts that made him confess. If he could start over, he would change. He would never resist the man's actions or insist on being coaxed and persuaded into doing so; each time, Light would act fervently just as he did.

His cell phone vibrated.

No hint of curiosity became evident in his eyes as he looked to his pocket and retrieved the device, not until he read the caller identification.

He felt his breathing hitch.

He read the name, mentally, over and over again, as if waiting for another name to appear, as if this were a mistake.

But, no, the name was clearly there.

_Ryuzaki. _

Light breathed out, and the phone kept vibrating. He should answer – no, what could the detective want with him? Surely, the agents had discovered of his attempt to escape, and it would only be practical of them to contact him, to bring him back or find out where the Hell he had run off to. Of course they wanted him back, but he could _not_ return. Not to there, with all of those other agents eagerly waiting to pounce and fasten the handcuffs around his wrists.

But, then again, he wanted to see Ryuzaki…

Terribly.

Light bowed his head. The cell phone had stopped, but a moment later, it started again.

His next move was unconscious. He lifted the phone to his ear, and hushed the device's low vibrating with the press of a button.

He took a second to regain his voice. His eyes closed. "…Y-Yes?"

There was a pause on the other end. "Light-kun," the caller spoke. "Why have you run?"

Light opened his eyes. Of whom the voice belonged to was too clear.

It was him, the detective, Ryuzaki-san, L Lawliet.

He swallowed. "I – I can't go back. I don't want to be -"

"None of them will be quick to arrest you, Light. I assure you. They will not act unless I tell them to." Silence. "Besides, you have known this day would come, haven't you? Running is useless, Kira. I could easily convince police forces amongst the globe to hunt for you…" His voice now softened. "And I don't want to do that."

The rain fell harder now. Light ran a hand through his dampening brunette hair as he let a shivering exhale pass him, and into the device, his hand struggling to keep a firm hold of the phone. He heard the detective whisper his name to ensure that he was still there, but only a broken noise of reassurance left him. He was scared.

"…Ryuzaki," he said slowly. "I only want to _be with_ you."

"And I as well, Light-kun," the detective murmured. "If only here were such a world."

Light moved an arm around himself. "Let's…talk," he proposed in a whisper. "Before they arrest me." He added unsurely, "Please."

"Of course. I had already planned to do so." Ryuzaki paused. "If only you return."

Hesitation. "…Y-Yes. I wi -"

"Promise me."

Light looked up, to the parking space. His eyes drooped, and he barely said, "I promise."

The call ended. His own phone slipped from his hand and fell into his lap, but he did not bother to replace it in his pocket. He brought his knees to his chest and bowed his head against them, failing to suppress his shivers by wrapping his arms around his stomach. And though the anguish within him was great, he couldn't bring himself to cry. Maybe it was because he knew he would see the detective before his arrest, and perhaps he would be able to kiss the man, one last time.

xXx

The image was confirmed. Yagami-kun had entered the building.

Ryuzaki arose from his chair and started to depart from the darkened room, one alit only by the faint glows of light emitted from various monitors and computer screens. When he left the room, the radiance of the other, for a moment, pierced his eyes, but he dismissed the feeling with a slight bow of his head, to hide his face and to make a small, unintentional respectful gesture to the agents in the room. His hands moved into his pockets as he took his seat and said, "He's here," and then added, "Remain wary, but do _not_ arrest him until I give word to do so." He looked at them, amongst the acknowledging faces and others questioning. He said one more thing to clarify. "I wish to speak with him before we leave."

There was no more to be said; they waited for Kira's arrival.

The elapsing minutes seemed perpetual to the detective. He kept his stare on the door, thinking of how Yagami-kun would enter and what he would say, if anything at all. He wondered if he would be able to see the distress in that handsome face of his, or if such emotion be masked by the oh-so-fervent infuriation of Kira.

On all of this, he pondered.

He was ready to see him.

The doorknob twisted. The atmosphere tensed, as did the agents as they kept vigilant eyes locked on the door that now moved ajar. The stature of Light was revealed to them, and he appeared to be wearied by this whole endeavor, his stare remaining downcast as he stepped a little past the threshold with a couple tentative steps. An agent closed the door for him, and he lifted his heavy eyes – the first one he looked to was Ryuzaki. The detective felt his heart grimace at such a sight, his love so silently agonized.

Slowly, he lowered his gaze.

He hated this.

"…Handcuffs," he whispered.

Light stiffened. His eyes shot aside as one of the men approached him with a pair of handcuffs, and another took hold of his shoulders to keep him still; but nevertheless, he resisted. He tried to writhe as the handcuffs were fastened over his wrists, his eyes desperate and angered as they shot to Ryuzaki, confused with some sort of innocence, as if to ask, "Why are you doing this to me?"

The detective was not looking at him.

He couldn't. Not with his love looking like that.

Ryuzaki stood, and moved around his chair. He was heading for a room.

"Follow me, Light-kun."

The agents released him. Light was somewhat hesitant to follow, though the resentment had now faded from his eyes. He shuffled across the carpet, passing each of the members of the Task Force as he strode the condemning path. His father, however, did not watch.

The detective had left the door open for him, and he entered with an erratic heart and faltering breaths. It was dimly lit inside, likewise arranged with suede furnishings and a coffee table; truly, the room seemed to be a miniature version of the previous one. Light flinched as the door closed behind him, and he took a glimpse over his shoulder to notice the other man standing there. Their eyes did not meet for more than a moment.

Light started to speak softly. "Ryuzaki -"

"Have a seat, Light-kun."

Light blinked.

Slowly, his eyes looked in direction of the furniture, and a small noise broke from his throat as he ambled towards them. He descended upon one of the small couches, never minding the fact that his rain-dampened khakis could wet the cushion beneath him. Bowing his head, he closed his eyes. The silence was unnerving, but he could only frown at it and let it be prolonged. His heart had calmed in the tense quietude, though it quickened when he heard the other man shift and start to move.

He cringed gently.

He waited until he could hear the detective stand in front of him, or until he could feel a hand rest on his shoulder as words of disappointment were murmured from Ryuzaki's mouth – words of sorrow, apology, and remorse.

But, no.

No such things occurred.

However, the detective did touch him.

He lifted Light's chin with one of his fingers, and Light forced his eyes to open. A small gasp left him once eye contact was established, and again, he felt liquid sting his vision, but he couldn't cry.

His handcuffs rattled. His vision worsened. He blinked.

"Ryuzaki-san…" was the only word he could muster.

Grayish eyes stared back at him, seemingly impassive, but really covertly ridden with distress. The pale man looked into his counterpart's face – his lover's – with hidden ache; slowly, he looked over each contour and curve, noting the fatigue, the stress, and the anguish that had been etched into them. But, even if such emotions were in his face, he looked inexplicably handsome. The detective could smell the aroma of ozone and rain from his skin, and he loved the way his brunette hair looked, somewhat dried after being dampened by the rain. His eyes, though drooped, were striking in their reddish-brown hue, and he found himself stroking over one of Light's cheekbones in wordless awe of his smooth, beautiful flesh.

He, unconsciously, brought his stare over the younger agent's lips; suddenly, he wanted to kiss them. A moment barely passed before he did, bending forward graciously to collect his lover's mouth with his own. Like always, Light tasted pure, with the exception of a faint essence of rainwater that had wet his lips. And, like always, his taste was invigorating. Ryuzaki let his tongue slip forth to ease beyond Light's lips, and he moaned softly when he could sense his lover's own tongue return the erotic gesture. Their tongues massaged, and their lips puckered. Light's moans were quite coy, his face cringing softly as he tried to kiss the man deeper.

He shivered. "Uh-Uhnn'. Mm…"

Light so desperately wanted to push his hands against the other man's form, to explore and grope at each inch of his body with such fervor…But, he couldn't. He sat in his desperation as the detective ran his pale, cool hands beneath his shirt and against his neck. He cried out in his anguish and stimulation, throwing his head back to welcome the other man's mouth to his throat, and within moments, his throat was smothered with kisses, with licks. He shut his eyes and writhed in his excitement, flushing as he felt heat sweep over his lower. His hands had clutched to fists in his rattling handcuffs, and still, tears threatened his eyes.

The noises he made were broken.

"Oh-Ohhh."

He did not want the moment to end.

The detective climbed into his lap, and pushed up his shirt to expose his bare chest and stomach. His grayish eyes had become drooped in this infatuating endeavor. They passed over Light's face in a quick, though electrifying glance, all as he hurried to push his mouth against the younger man's chest, to smother the flesh with all of the passion welled within him.

Light bit his lip to soften a cry that longed to leave him so loudly. But, he knew he had to do his best to remain quiet, as long as the other agents were outside the door. He whined, and began to twist as the heat at his lower became greater. Ryuzaki was not blind to this. He looked down, and clearly, a bulge had begun to push up beneath the khaki material.

He smiled, barely, and hummed in delight. "Mmm."

Light slipped from his hold to fall onto the cushions, on his side, his face flushed. He let out a soft moan into the couch as his form began to curl, as though he wanted to hide the sight of his erection from the other man, or as if the heat was becoming hard to bear. Ryuzaki, however, moved on top of Light's side and let his hand graze over the length of his leg, his fingers merely hovering in such a delicate manner. Once at his crotch, he sought to move beyond the barriers that failed to keep him out – Light's belt, the elastic band of his underwear – and he took a gentle hold of the warming member. Light whimpered, and the detective wordlessly hushed him with a kiss.

"Mm'…Shh," he murmured lowly. His thumb began to stroke the erection. "It's okay."

Nonetheless, Light whined. Of course, the feeling was utterly stimulating, but it could not eradicate the feelings of distress that were still clogged up within his heart. Though he could feel a sense of relief blossoming from this erotic endeavor, it was not enough. He wanted _more_ – _so_ _much more_ – but such a thing would be difficult to grant in the given situation. He cried out, in arousal and in grief.

The other man stared at him, one of his pale hands coming to stroke the side of his face. Ryuzaki kept his other hand at Light's erection, stroking slowly.

He was no fool. It was clear…

"I understand what you want, Light-kun," he whispered. "Because, I desperately crave the same."

Light tried to look at him, but his hair prevented him. "Why – I want you to…"

Ryuzaki looked to the door. "I as well, but I'm afraid they may grow suspicious." His eyes lowered back down to Light's face, to his tempting body just in front of him, lying there under his dominance. He became lost in a trance. _Yes_, he knew he wanted so much more of this man's flesh. He wanted to strip him as best as he could and enter him, until both of them released for one, _final_ time. He wanted to…

And he would.

He was vaguely aware of how quick his stroking had become at Light's erection, and he slipped his hand from the agent's underpants. Light already knew as to what was to happen. He shifted himself onto his stomach as his handcuffs rattled, and a moan of desire escaped him unconsciously. The detective was already at work at lowering his khakis, his pale hands shaking just subtly as he undid the chestnut-colored belt and pulled down the tiny zipper, all before thrusting down Light's underwear. He let his hand caress over the now exposed erection, and then lowered his own unfitting pair of jeans to reveal his own. Either one of his hands rested against Light's bottom, and he bended himself forward at a gracious angle, at the perfect degree to ease himself inside his love.

Light suppressed a groan and shivered. His hands curled to fists.

"Ahh'…"

The detective knew he had to be quick, for the sake of time and for the sake of remaining unsuspicious by the other agents. Though it was somewhat against his will to do so, he pumped in rather fast, deep thrusts, and his erection delved into the depths of the other man's entrance each time. Light could not withhold the moan that built up within his throat; slowly, he let it escape into the couch cushion. He whined when he thought he felt a trail of blood scale the length of his inner leg, his eyes closing as the man acted faster.

Now, his throat started to funnel, and again, liquid started to sting his eyes. The noises that escaped him were still broken, and some a little hoarse. Swallowing the sounds away served him no good. His mind convinced him that now degree of lovemaking could destroy the anguish inside him; no, _nothing_ could. His condemning was inevitable.

As though the other man could hear such thoughts, he plunged, as if to force the contemplations from Light's mind. Light cried out, writhing again as the heat at his lower had swelled to an erotic fire. The detective had entered him wholly now, and he leaned his pale form against his lover's backside, sneaking a hand around him to grasp his erection. Light, with Ryuzaki, moaned, all as their release surged.

"Ohhh!"

Unlike times prior, they did not cry out again as the fluid continued to escape them, but instead, they sat there in the permeating silence, though letting their faltering breaths fill up the atmosphere around them. Even as the detective's release traveled down the length of his leg, Light remained still, flat on his stomach, with his eyes partially open. He lay there in waiting for the other man to say something, to at least utter another groan or pull out of him, but no.

Not a thing was done.

Light attempted to look at him, and as he did, Ryuzaki withdrew his member. The sound of him re-clothing himself could be barely perceived. Light flinched when he felt the other man fixing his clothes for him, pulling up his underwear before his khaki pants were refastened. His reddish-brown eyes blinked.

"L…" His vision blurred. "It can't be over," he thought aloud.

Ryuzaki shook his head. "It's tragic," he whispered. "…I'm sorry."

Light straightened atop the cushion. "You don't have to be." He looked down. "At least…we were able to do that – one last time."

Silence.

The detective moved his arms around Light.

Light flinched.

"Light-kun," the word left him so softly, as his arms further constricted to tighten the embrace. There came a moment where it seemed as though the man were to utter something more, but silence only ensued. Ryuzaki did not want to let Light slip from his arms, because he knew upon doing such a thing, the moment here would, _truly_, be finished. He could not make eye contact with his love for moments on end; no, he could not look into those glimmering, sorrowful eyes. His heart would crumble at such a sight. Though still, he was able to plant a small kiss at Light's lips, and the gesture was lovingly returned. Light tucked his head by the detective's neck with a small, broken sound, and unconsciously, Ryuzaki began to rock him.

He kissed him again and said, "…It's okay."

There came a knock at the door. He swore mentally.

"Ryuzaki-san? Are you nearly finished?" an agent inquired.

Ryuzaki kept holding Light. He called back, "Nearly. I should only be five more minutes or so," and Light whimpered at the statement. But, again, the detective held him closely and let his hands stroke his back. A kiss was planted against his forehead and cheek, his chin and his mouth…

Light looked up at him. "…W-We should go," he trembled.

The detective could barely nod. His arms shook as he let go. "Yes. I suppose."

He arose from the couch, and set a hand on Light's shoulder as he, too, rose to his feet. The pathway to the door seemed to be a long one; surely, it was the road to Light's official arrest, his conviction, his condemnation, and ultimately, his death. Still, such a road would not walk itself, and it had to be stridden by them both. The detective, first, found one of Light's hands and clasped it before he began to amble forward, and Light tilted his head against Ryuzaki's shoulder as he, too, started to move.

He couldn't cry. Not now.

They were in this together.

To the very end.

* * *

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**L'Adore.**


	19. XIX: Bars

**A/N: **Updatee.

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen: Bars**

Hunched atop the leather material of the passenger's seat, he lifted his grayish eyes to the rearview mirror just above the vehicle's dashboard, looking to check on the other three attendees seated in the row behind him. His stare passed over the agents Aizawa and Mogi, both of whom sat on either side of the convicted one, of Light; rather, Kira. The brunette had his head bowed, and his hair concealed his eyes from view, masking quite a bit of his handsome face.

For a moment, Ryuzaki wished he would, at least, look up at him. But, he thought again. He, actually, did not want him to. He would rather _not_ see the distress in that reddish-brown stare, and continue on this silent drive to the prison.

However, there came a soft sound from behind the detective, something between a hum and a small chuckle of satisfaction. Slowly, he cast a look over his shoulder to ensure that the noise he had heard was not some sort of hallucination, to look amongst the three in hopes to find the culprit. The answer came clear, as both Aizawa and Mogi had shot their eyes to Light. One of them had already sought to hold his shoulder, as though the lethal Kira, despite the fact of being handcuffed, could escape.

Again, the chuckling continued.

Light straightened with a smirk present on his lips, his eyes looking to the window, beyond the pane and the glass. He smile widened. "…Fools," he whispered. "All of you."

The detective narrowed his gaze.

Both agents looked to him, but he insisted on remaining wordless.

He waited for Kira to continue.

Light went on, "I don't believe this is happening." He looked at one of the agents at his side. "Do you _know_ who I am?" A pause, as he looked to the other. "And what I have done?"

There was hesitation from those in the vehicle, and even Watari - who served as the driver - took a glance over his shoulder at Light after he had spoken. As to if Kira's inquisitions had been rhetorical or literal, that was unknown. Still, one of the agents sought to tentatively respond to what he had said.

"You're Kira," he stated simply. "An abominable murderer. Someone who has taken countless lives unrighteously, without any just morals behind -"

"Unrighteously?" Light echoed him with a hint of mockery. "How could you even say that? Have you not been aware of how this world has changed?" His handcuffs rattled as he leaned close to the man, his stare now fervently aflame with Kira's corrupt psyche, with the twisted passion that aroused him when he spoke about creating his New World. "Wars have ceased. Criminality and villainy rates have significantly diminished. The New World of Kira was just beginning to unfold…" He glared. "And you've arrested me."

"That may be true, but as it has already been said," Ryuzaki decided to intervene on the conversation, despite the fact that his aching heart wished him not to. "…You sought to create this New World _unjustly_ – by taking lives. That cannot be done."

Light shot his eyes forward. "How else was I to do it?!" he retorted. "I happened upon this instrument of such…such power! It was the perfect tool – the notebook was perfect for my dream! Refusing to use it would be absolutely ridiculous."

"And it is because of your decision to use it, why you are going to prison," responded the detective. He looked at his Yagami-kun, his distress ridden amid the grayish hues of his stare. "Had you chosen some other, alternate method of creating -"

"There was no other way," Light cut him off with the exasperated sigh. The tone of his eyes shifted, subtly, to a gentler someone. He shifted in his handcuffs; on instinct, one of the agents held his shoulder tighter. Still, Light kept eye contact with Ryuzaki, and when such a wordless gesture was broken, a small noise broke in his throat, almost as though as he was attempting to make the man look back at him.

However, the technique failed.

Light said again, "…There was no other way, and I had to do this."

No one responded.

Light leaned forward.

He wanted Ryuzaki's attention.

"How could you _not_ want such a world? Somewhere where corruption and transgression is no more, where the pure-hearted and the hardworking dwell amongst one another, where there are no more wars, robberies, crimes…" His voice faded. He looked down. "I don't understand how anyone could be opposed to that."

The detective, too, looked down. "I told you, Light-kun. I, honestly, believe such a world would be a wonderful place to live. Truly. Had you chosen another way to create that world…That's different. If you must take countless lives just to create it," he paused to shake his head. "It isn't right. It isn't right to let Kira continue his reign."

Light frowned. For a moment, he closed his eyes, but he suddenly looked up; Ryuzaki was already watching him. He whispered, "How else? How else was I to do this?"

He waited for an answer, for seconds of quietude, but no such thing was given. The detective only turned his solemn stare beyond the pane of the windshield to, again, watch droplets of rain become obliterated by the windshield wipers that smothered them.

The prison could not be much farther now,

They would soon arrive to place Kira in his rightful position, locked behind bars.

However, Yagami-kun would not, in any way, be in his rightful place. Yagami-kun belonged with _him_, in _his_ presence, wound up in his embraces and pampered with his kisses. That was where he needed to be, right now.

_If only. _

As he glanced up into the rearview mirror again, he forced himself not to cringe at the sight. Light had leaned his head back in a seemingly act of defeat, as though he had admitted to the truth of his hopelessness, his upcoming damnation. There was neither a visible trace of resentment in his handsome face, nor a hint of loathing as his eyes remained drooped on his visage. No, he only seemed hopeless, or desperate for his demise. Something like that, or perhaps something in between.

Ryuzaki didn't know.

But, he did know that he, now, so greatly wanted to climb into the backseat and soothe Light. He wanted to let his hands explore and grope at his body, to kiss his lips skirt over his neck and tell him that everything would be okay.

All he wanted to do was love him; it was as simple as that.

_But, again, if only…_

He looked back over his shoulder. Neither one of them agents had their eyes fixed in any direction that would allow them to see Light, and the detective sought to take advantage of this moment. He acted as covert as he could as he reached one of his pale hands behind him to touch Yagami-kun's knee, to slowly caress over the khaki material of his leg. Light shot his eyes up with a near-inaudible gasp from his throat, and as he did so, Ryuzaki moved his hand away.

Those reddish-brown eyes were drawn wide, his lips somewhat agape as he only stared at the other man. The detective could see those lips stammering to produce a word, never mind a sound, and he was quick to, again, reach his hand behind him to touch the side of Light's face. The brunette flicked his eyes to the hand that stroked his cheek, swallowing uneasily when his wearied stare met the other man's grayish gaze.

He mouthed, "Ryuzaki," when the hand moved away, and he twisted in his seat a little when the urge to lean up and kiss the man irked him.

The sound of his rattling handcuffs made one of the agents look to him.

The detective looked away.

But, he could surely feel Light's eyes on him, as though pleading him to look back.

xXx

It was amazing, how the simple image of a prison cell could spur such a dreadful sensation of horror within him, and send his heart on its own erratic cadence of fear; indeed, just the plain image of the cell itself frightened him near-senseless, and he found himself resisting the guards' forceful hands as they guided him towards this image. The brunette could not quite make himself whine, though a small cry did break from him. His writhing served him uselessly – attempting to somehow thrash from the holds of the men was utterly futile, and an unwise maneuver.

Nonetheless, his ineffectual forbearing only became worse as he was drawn nearer to the cell. Light's hands curled to fists in his handcuffs and he made a sharp noise of opposition, one of his fear and distress. He twisted himself in the direction opposite of the cell's, as though in hopes that if he were to look away and then back again, the image would vanish.

Of course, when he looked back, it was still there.

In all of its reality.

He cried out.

The guards released him.

"No. No!" He stumbled beyond the cell's bars, and lost his balance. A sound broke from him as he collided with the cold, cement floor, leaning into the cool wall for support as he arose with quaking knees. The cell was locked before he could even begin to approach its portal.

His eyes widened. "I am Kira!" he shouted one of the guards. "Have you any idea what I have done?! How I have changed this world?! Do you?!"

Both guards ignored him, and did only so little as to lift a soft, though harsh glimpse up into Light's face – that reddish stare – from behind their opaque helmets. Light made a whimper as the men began to depart from his presence in an authoritative unison, and he failed to produce a voice to call them back.

This was it.

They were gone, and now he was so utterly alone.

His knees trembled, and he sank to the ground, his handcuffs rattling faintly as he felt himself tense. The shadows were their deepest towards the back of the cell, and he, absently, slid back to let such obscurities engulf his form. Now, not only did his throat begin to funnel with all of this helplessness that refused to not ensnare him, but his eyes became ached with the sting of tears, and when he attempted to blink the liquid away, he only initiated the flow of a single droplet from his eye. He shuddered with his back against the wall, his knees moving against his chest before he bowed his wearied head against them.

His eyes shut. He bit his lip.

None of this could be happening. He wouldn't believe it.

He tried to stop crying.

It was useless.

Where was he?

_Where was L?_

Letting forth a small sob past his lips, he opened his eyes and turned his face to one side. He wondered: Would he be able to see his lover before his ultimate condemnation, or had the other day, truly, been their final romantic interaction. He licked his lips upon that thought, and he could swear that the delicate essence of one of Ryuzaki's favorite sweet-treats lingered on his lips; but, no, surely such a thing was a hallucination from his currently agonized psyche. He looked beyond the tops of his knees, peering through the shadows that veiled him and into the hall.

There was no one in the cell before his own.

Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if there was not a sole person in the cell next to him, or the one next to that one, and so on. He had been labeled as an abominable murderer, a serial killer, a crazed murderer…The guards probably thought that Kira, in all of his power, could murder the nearest inmate.

He shook his head to dismiss the thought, such blasphemy.

His head bowed against his knees again.

Never before had he felt so utterly _alone_.

The silence was unnerving.

It deafened him.

Light curled in a little, hunched.

He shivered.

"L…" the word left him in a gentle sob.

A door opened quietly at the end of the hall, but he failed to hear it.

His form leaned aside, into the wall. He was vaguely aware of how his shoulder was sliding downward, towards the ground, and how his side soon fell against the cold, cement flooring. Tears continued to obscure the vision of his reddish-brown stare, and he kept such a stare downcast over the grayish ground, wordlessly lamenting.

In an abrupt moment, Light, oddly, felt ill.

A small hum of his condition left him in a drawled, low sound from his throat, escaping him in something between a groan and a cry for respite. The breath he sought to inhale entered in a sharp, faltered manner, and in desperation, he lifted his eyes quickly, curling in his tensed form; but then, he stopped.

His eyes rounded at the sight of the one standing there, beyond the cell's bars, in the hall.

It was him.

Another tear left him. "…L-L," the undertone.

The detective looked in. "Yagami-kun?" his voice was soft. "…Are you in there?"

Light's heart fluttered. He struggled to straighten. "Y-Yes. I'm here." A pause. "I'm in here."

The other man appeared to be having a difficult time locating his lover's form amidst the darkened chamber, his stare becoming intent as he peered with a more fervent desire to see him. A simple, whispered command of, "Come here," served as a sufficiently in compelling Light to straighten further, and the brunette clenched his hands in his cuffs before bothering to shuffle across the cool floor, in Ryuzaki's direction. With every other shuffle or so, a small noise escaped him, those of which sounded something like a whimper, or even a gasp.

The unveiling light was somewhat sharp to his eyes, and he bowed his head upon reaching the place where the cell's bars prohibited him from venturing beyond their metal limitations, where the cell's bars prohibited from touching his lover. He was about to lift his head when the other man reached his fingers between the bars to stroke the side of his face; and at once, Light looked up at this. His reddish-brown eyes trailed a widened stare from Ryuzaki's caressing hand and along the length of his arm, until he could search those grayish and seemingly impassive eyes.

Light leaned his cheek into his palm with a soft hum, his eyelids fluttering before he reestablished eye contact with his lover.

He frowned. "…Ryuzaki."

He leaned forward. The space between the bars barely sufficed in letting him situate his lips there, allowing the detective to bend forward and press his lips to his love's. Light did not wait this time, and the usual tentativeness melted; slowly, he widened the gap between his lips to let his tongue ease forth, to let its tip graze against Ryuzaki's. The sensation brought up a sound of pleasure in his throat, and he did not attempt to suppress the noise, despite the probability of other inmates being present in the dim corridor. He didn't care.

He felt the other man's hand sweep graciously beneath his jawline, and he slowly broke the kiss, leaning back to look into Ryuzaki's pale, though handsome face. Light was still frowning, licking his lips as though in want to kiss him again.

He looked down, wordless.

Ryuzaki spoke softly.

He stroked through Light's hair, whatever strands he could touch.

"…Light," the fading word-sigh.

Light looked up. He turned his face a little to kiss the man's hand.

The detective started to stroke his cheek. His thumb parted from the rest of his fingers to move beneath the very base of one of those reddish-brown eyes, smudging the edge of a forming tear. The brunette blinked at him, and his stare widened to near-innocence at the affectionate gesture; suddenly, he was compelled to kiss him again. He shot forward to lock their lips, his handcuffs rattling as he angled his face to one side. The detective's tongue delved into his mouth, and their tongues ensued in a fervent massage of hunger, passion, of vehemence.

Ryuzaki leaned forward even further, and in turn, Light whimpered.

The brunette cringed softly.

Their kissing, it truly felt utterly pleasurous, though he could not emit the thoughts of the near-future from his mind. He couldn't. He had been wrong in presuming that any sort of lovemaking between him and the detective would eradicate such distraught emotion from within him – it was dimwitted of him to assume that his anguish would be able to be eliminated so easily. Light pulled his mouth away, and bit his lower lip softly. The other man's hand had lowered from the side of his face.

The brunette refused to make eye contact.

He shivered, and brought his knees inward.

"…R-Ryuzaki-san," he murmured. "I'm sorry."

Ryuzaki looked over his handsome face, worry apparent in his wearied stare.

He held his cheek to whisper, "You have no reason to say such a thing."

Light looked at him.

There was a moment of silence.

He then said, "…I'll miss you, Ryuzaki."

The detective looked aside at such words when, inwardly, his heart had twisted.

He couldn't cry. Not in front of him.

He would only kiss him, and then whisper, "…I love you."

Light shut his eyes, all as a small sob broke from him.

He kissed back.

"I love you too…"

The detective arose to leave.

He didn't look back at his love behind bars; he couldn't.

There was no more to be said.

* * *

Gaahh'. I'm sorry if I'm breaking anyone's heart out there with all this tragedy.

Revieww.

**L'Adore.**


	20. XX: Elope

**A/N: **Okay, so, here's the deal. A majority of those who read this story are wanting a happy ending, and since I submitted chapter one, I had been planning a not-so-happy ending to this fiction; so, I decided to write two endings - a happy one, and a sad one. This is part one of the happy ending, and I'll be uploading the second part probably next week. For now, enjoy part one of the happier end to the story!

* * *

**Chapter Twenty: (Ending One, Part I); Elope **

He had confirmed it within himself: all senses of hopefulness had expired and had been replaced by a greater sensation of despair, and his mind convinced him that he would _not_ see his love before his inevitable demise. It was as though fate had decided against his wishes and never minded their desires to be in the other's company – to be together, as though fate wanted to cast and constrain his already-anguished self within a greater shell of dismay and misfortune, of torment; why, he wondered in desperation, did their love have to be so _forbidden_?

He neither knew how to tell, nor what to.

Was he to feel some sort of repentance for opting to become the abominable one known as Kira, or was he to feel a sort of disgust for this world, and its refusal to embrace his envisioned Utopia. He didn't know, and he could only let such inquisitions reside amid his mind as he remained idle in a corner of the dismal chamber, his weary head bowed against the tops of his knees. A small yawn left him, and it was then when he remembered how little he had slept; nevertheless, slumber did not appeal to him now. He did not want to fall into a dream, only to awake to this nightmare. Though against his will, he let his consciousness continue to fade out, and fade back in. He let his eyes continue to flutter and his lips continue to make small yawns, but he would not fall asleep.

He was too distraught to even to do so, at any rate.

Conforming to the chamber's corner, he brought the side of his face against the cool walling. The weathered barrier served as a rather uncomfortable cushion beneath his head, but it would have to suffice for the time being. His tongue moved over his lips, an absentminded tendency. The essence of tears tainted the contours of his lips, and at this, he remembered the dried streaks of tears on his face. He smudged them against his knees, and kept his head there. In his handcuffs, his hands curled to fists.

He cringed as a tear trailed his cheek.

Suddenly, he wiped it on his leg, and swore softly.

"L…"

His eyes opened.

The tears fell quicker.

"L, where are you?"

xXx

In spite of the several dismal chambers that lined either side of the dim corridor, the detective knew just which _one_ of them constrained his lover, the very _one_ that ensnared his precious Yagami-kun, and the _very cell_ that confined the abominable one known as Kira; such a cell was growing nearer with each step he set forth before him, and he would soon be able to execute his plan. He had conjured it not long ago, rather the idea had came to him when the dread in his heart had grown too heavy, when he came into full realization the closeness of his lover's demise, and how close his inevitable heartbreak was.

In truth, his scheme was quite precarious, and the slightest blunder could ensure – no, it would _promise_ a vile ruin for not only himself, but for Yagami-kun as well. He did not want him to suffer further, though still, for the sake of his Yagami-kun, he felt the need to take action, and execute - rather, he felt as though it was his utmost obligation to do so.

With this thought, his motivation flourished twofold.

He knew, needless to say, that his appearance would be completely unexpected by Light. Yagami-kun would, undoubtedly, be frightened.

Nevertheless, he _would_ see him.

He _had_ to.

There was no other time.

Procrastinating or dismissing the deed was out of the question.

He sighed silently.

The cell was near now.

He moved his pale hands into his pockets, and something jingled.

xXx

That sound.

It struck fear within him, and he froze as though he were a deer caught amidst a pair of headlights, his stare drawn wide, fixated beyond his cell's bars. That sound was no unfamiliar noise to his ears; no, at the instant it resounded from the corridor, his frantic psyche had already defined it: _keys_.

There was someone in the hall, he resolved, and with them, they had a ring of keys. This someone, this stranger, whomever they made be – they were heading in his direction, towards his cell, with these keys. He just knew it. He could feel it. This someone could very well be one of the prison's guards, and the only business they could have with him was to liberate him from this dismal chamber and escort him to one that would spur a much greater sense of despair, the execution chamber.

"_Damnit_," he swore quietly.

Light retreated to the shadows at this thought, as though a child in confrontation with an utter stranger, but this time, his entire form was not veiled by the darkness. It was as if fate was now, truly, not on his side, and refused to withhold him from reality in all its inevitableness.

His hands curled.

One could only wonder, _"Who was there?"_

Light attempted to acknowledge the more optimistic likelihoods of this someone's identity; was it possible that this person could be his L-san, the detective? Though, he wondered if there was an actual, _legitimate_ reason for the man to be sauntering along this particular hall, unless he was seeking to visit him again…It was possible.

Light straightened at this thought, and for a moment, a small, near-impassive spark of hope flickered somewhere within him – still, however, his form remained unyielding, stiffened just as though he were constrained to the patch of ground he was seated upon. His heart was cast into an erratic cadence of palpitations; likewise, his breathing faltered the same.

He held his breath as the keys sounded again.

His red-brown stare drooped, and this stranger became revealed to him.

The person was unmistakable. Liquid sought to obscure his vision as his stare passed over the silhouetted figure; he noted the person's pale face and contrasting black-rimmed eyes, that impassive gaze and unkempt mane of dark hair, his inelegant stature, his hunched posture; Light could never mistake such a character. This was the man he _loved_, but he could not bring himself to approach him.

A thought struck him: Would the guards send L to release him?

Would the guards make L escort him to the execution chamber?

Would they make him do that?

He did not want to know the answer to the chilling inquisition. A tear no longer threatened to slip from his eye; it trailed in a gracious streak from his eye duct and over his cheek; in instinct, he attempted to hide his emotion with a bow of his head. He did not want his love to take him from the cell – no, not if it meant he were to be brought to his demise.

He did not want L to watch him die.

He bit his lower lip, shaking his head slowly. "N-Not now," he choked on his words. His glimmering gaze was cast upward. "L, please. Not now. Don't take me -"

"Light."

The brunette hushed.

"You're misunderstood. I am not here to harm you, nor am I here to bring you anywhere that will induce any sort of harm to you." His voice grew softer, and he lifted the proper key to the cell's lock. "I am here to do quite the opposite, as a matter of fact…You must believe me."

Light stared.

This man would never lie to him; he _loved_ him.

He trembled as the lock clicked, and his lips pursed softly as he started to form a word, though the detective intervened with his voice, and spoke over him in nothing more than a murmur. He commanded his love delicately with a simple demand of, "Come here," and at these words, Light held his breath. He could not understand the tentativeness that had his form so encumbered; why, he should be radiating with a sort of glee, at the least – L was _freeing_ him from this depressing chamber. It was liberation, but why wasn't he smiling?

It was the fear of the unknown, the confusion as to just _where_ this man was planning on escorting him. He knew he had no choice, but to place his trust in L's hands.

Yes, he had to trust him.

Their love was still strong; it had gone uncontaminated, remaining pure throughout this entire nightmare.

He started to move forward, letting a small exhale trembled past his lips as his stare met that of the detective's. The hall's dim lighting gradually unveiled the brunette's form. He seemed to shrink in on himself when the illumination washed over his handsome face, and though his head bowed at a slight incline, his eyes would not disrupt the eye contact amid him and his lover.

Soon, he drew near to the cell's portal.

Slowly, the bars were eased aside.

There it was - right before him, his freedom.

All he had to do was stand up, and walk out.

Light felt a silent sob break from his throat, and he could no longer peer into the other man's ostensibly impassive stare; emotions sought to whelm his wearied psyche, for his own love had granted this liberation to him. There was no amalgamation of words out there to express his gratitude, to articulate the overwhelming compassion he now felt towards this man. No, there was no utterance.

The brunette trembled yet another time as he raised his head, and the desire to kiss his love irked him. Slowly, his tongue ran over his lips before he stood to press his mouth against L's. The pale man was not hesitant to kiss him back, and surely, he could taste the brunette's tears on his lips.

He used his tongue to lick them away. A small hum left him. "…Uhnn'."

Light's hands curled. "Mmm'," he echoed. He kissed deeper. "L…"

_He was free._

The detective's hands explored the brunette's form; one of his pale hands was tender in slipping up the front of his love's sleeved top, all to grope at his warm flesh, as the second touched by the crotch of his khakis. Oh, how he now wanted _so much more_ of this man. This mere groping and caressing would not suffice in wholly pleasing him, and he frowned inwardly at the realization that he could not do much else in the given environment. He would not risk becoming noticed by any of the guards, nor would he risk becoming suspected by potential inmates in the area.

With great displeasure, he moved his lips from Light's mouth and started to end their kissing – but, he could not stop quite yet. He was hungry for him. His mouth moved over the brunette's neck, his delicate lips fluttering atop his flesh in search of one sweet spot. He was sure he had found it; Light leaned his head back and moaned softly. L's work at the base of his throat became greater in fervor, his mouth's kissing growing deeper, his tongue accompanying with tantalizing licks and laps at his skin.

The man breathed against him. "Uhnn'…" His mouth suckled, and one of his hands cradled the back of his head, the other resting at the base of his neck. He could sense the brunette's furious pulse. He smiled. "Mmmm'."

Light cried out. "Ohh! Uhnn'." He writhed softly. "Ohhh…L-L."

The detective knew it would be best to stop, but he could not . Not just yet. He induced a final act of passion against his lover's neck, letting his lips skirt around the base of his throat before he kissed along the length of the rigid vertebrae, his mouth detecting each low sound that resounded within the brunette.

He kissed Light's chin, and then his mouth, whispering his name.

Light's eyes had drooped. He flushed. "L-L…"

L kissed the side of his face, and embraced him. "Mm'…Yagami-kun, I become so distracted by you. I concentrate on nothing, but your handsomeness – I nearly forgot what I must tell you. Why I even came to see you."

Light watched him, looking deeply into his face.

He had nearly forgotten as well.

There was a pause. "…Why did you come here?"

Pale fingers reached out to touch the contours of the brunette's face. The man did not speak for a moment, as though too engrossed by his lover's beauty; sure enough, he leaned in to plant a small kiss against Light's lips. "I have produced a plan, and I feel confident in my scheme. I believe it could lead both of us to some sort of freedom, some sort of liberation from this case, this prison…" He looked into those red-brown eyes. "By _eloping_, we can leave this place, and all of its nightmares behind."

Light's stare rounded.

Eloping?

He shook his head. "…Escaping," he kept his voice soft. "I – I can't let you…"

L tilted his head.

Light went on, "I can't let you. Surely, the guards will grow suspicious, a-and the Task Force will certainly - "

"You need not worry about either company, Yagami-kun. I have already compromised with both troupes. I told them that if I did not return within a certain amount of hours, that they had my personal permission to pursue me."

The brunette stared. "…H-How long? How many hours?"

A pause. "It is a reasonable number, though knowing it is needless. We will be able to distance ourselves significantly from this prison. You do not need to worry about that, Light-kun," he murmured. His hand ran through his love's hair. He kissed him again. "…We can be alone."

The brunette's stare was cast downward. He knew he could trust this man; indeed, that thought was not one to be worried about. Somewhere within him, though, there was, in fact, some small flicker of hope and compliance, a spark of relief that, at long last, a beautiful prospect of liberation had unfolded before him, and shone a light upon the seemingly relentless reoccurrence of distress in his life. A chance such as this one, he decided, would not be presented before him again, if he were to refuse the detective's proposition.

This man was his golden ticket to freedom.

All he had to do was agree.

Light looked at his love, just as another kiss was planted against his cheek.

He nodded subtly. "L, I would like to…Take me away from here." His lips moved near to the other man's, his tongue slipping forth to move over them as his stare peered into L's. He rested his cheek against his shoulder. "I don't want to be here anymore."

L watched him. A near-subtle smile became visible on his lips, and he brought one of his pale hands to the nape of the brunette's neck, letting his fingers caress in gracious arches against his love's flesh. He brought a kiss to the side of his face again, though this time pressing his lips by the underside of his jaw. He murmured, "Let us leave, now," his mouth by the man's ear, and his hand moved along his spine.

Light moved his face deeper into his shoulder.

"L," his soft voice. "I love you."

This was it.

He was free.

* * *

Review!

**L'Adore.**


	21. XXI: Together

**A/N:**_Pheww. Sorry for such a long wait, people. Y'know how much of a royal pain final exams are. _

_A lot of smexin' in this chapter. The is the final part of the "happier" ending to this fiction. Expect a much shorter "not-so-happy" ending sometime next week or so._

_Enjoyy._

* * *

**Chapter Twenty-One; (Ending One, Part II): Together **

"L-san, we've done it. The prison…" The rest of Light's words expired on his tongue amid all of his sudden wordless rapture, and, rather quickly, he turned in the passenger seat, twisting himself to look beyond the rearmost window on the vehicle. In a speechless glee, he let the subtlest smile form on his lips, and a small breath of disbelief wavered from his throat; indeed, they had done it, for that dismal spectacle of the prison was no longer in sight. This liberation was never expected to be attained, though nevertheless, he could not let himself take such a marvel – a blessing, rather – for granted. The designation of Kira still floated about his head, and it would never leave him.

His red-brown eyes were cast aside, to the man who had opted to jeopardize not only his own reputation as the world's greatest detective, but the wellbeing of his own lover; the man of whom his heart had ascertained to adoring; the man of whom held fervent ardor towards one aspect of Light's character, though he abhorred the other - that abominable façade. The pale man had already been watching his beautiful lover for the past minute, looking over him with that impassive stare, as though, soundlessly, awing the craftsmanship of his complexion, as though engrossed by such handsomeness etched amid each contour of his face; the angle of his jaw, that tussled brunette mane, that gem-like stare and perfect mouth – the detective would not suffice in merely gawking at such a spectacle. Without a word, the brunette's mouth was gathered by his own, and pulled in for a soft, delicate kiss.

Light breathed against him, his coy tongue unsure.

"Uhn'. L-san," his voice was somewhat inquisitive.

L smacked quietly. His lips moved agape. "Mmmm."

The moment had not yet brought with it tears, though this was not to say that not a droplet would fall sometime amongst their delicate lovemaking. The detective felt compelled to express further the blooming sense of rapture that now sought to blossom somewhere within him, and he eased himself into the lap of his lover - in doing so, parting their lips. The action to rest his head atop the brunette's chest was nearly instinctive – absentminded, and he did so with a small word-sigh, his lover's name.

Light embraced him slowly.

He kissed him; his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, his ear – his face.

"…L," the name escaped him, almost in the form of a whine.

His name, the way he breathed it and let it off of his tongue – the brunette's desires became evident to the other man, and so he acted accordingly. One of his pale hands swept fervent fingers over the area of Light's crotch as his form arched in a gracious curve, all so his lips could set near to his love's, and so his second hand could skirt beneath his sleeved sweater; though, Light was the one to perk up, and suddenly press his mouth to the other man's. He let a hum drawl from his throat, but the noise was cut short.

The caressing at his lower had grown stronger. The heel of the detective's palm pressed into khaki material whilst his pale fingers clawed, inducing such a massage against the insistent erection. The mere sensation of his hardening member served as fuel to Light, and he kissed his lover deeper; he wanted the other man to taste him, his mouth opening. A tongue delved within his mouth, seeking to run itself across his teeth, a moan leaving him as it pushed against his own.

Light winced. His hands began moving over his crotch.

His fingers were quaking as he touched himself, and L noticed this quite clearly.

A bulge had started to become evident.

He smiled.

The brunette started to remove his shirt, exposing such a crafted frame; the hard of his stomach and a sculpted upper torso; his nipples had puckered to luscious points atop his flesh, and now, his face flushed. That reddish-brown stare of his had sagged at their corners, drooped in a sort of innocence, and wordless pleading, as though he had become so encumbered amid the erotic interaction, amid a sensation of liberation. He spread his legs, groaning as he watched L strip himself of his simple, plain-white shirt. His psyche felt disarrayed; he could neither decide what he wanted the other man to do to him, nor how his lover would fulfill the risqué, sexual yearnings squirming afire through his bloodstream. He wanted the man to enter him, but he felt as though that would not even suffice in taming the rousing beast within him. He wanted each and every inch of L's flesh; he wanted it _all_.

Light whined. "Ohh. L-san."

His khakis were lowered, though only to the perfect extent, when the detective could withdraw his lover's erection from the underwear that failed to veil, or obscure, that alluring bulge. L had crouched like an animal in front it, and he cradled the erection within both of his pale hands; his impassive eyes marveled the spectacle as he let his tongue become acquainted with the flesh, as he lapped at the warming skin and set a kiss at the head. He listened to beautiful sounds become emitted from his lover's throat, sounds of his pleasure, his gentle laughter and coos of bliss. L could only echo such a glorious choir, letting sounds tumble from his own throat. He nevertheless continued to moan even as he eased the brunette's member into his mouth. Something between a chuckle and a groan skipped from Light's throat as his erection was so graciously nursed by the detective's glorious know-how, and soon, an exhale left him. His chest expanded, and with that, a whine broke forth. L's work remained continual, with each pump becoming the slightest bit deeper than the preceding; in accompaniment, his tongue ceaselessly rubbed itself into the warming flesh.

It felt so good, _too_ good, and it was clear that L, too, was utterly aroused.

His mouth pumped faster, deeper, with louder sounds of his passion.

Light writhed. "_Ohhh_," and the name of his lover left him in a murmur.

The heat was building; his erection felt aflame.

Squirts of liquid surged from the head, and he flung himself forward. L was unable to devour each droplet of his lover's glorious seed, though a sufficient amount gushed into his mouth. He swallowed immediately. This sudden action from the brunette was unexpected, and Light found himself flat on his back, incapable of induce any sort of movement. The smile that now formed on Light's lips was somewhat misguiding, or rather sly, and he licked his lips in a tantalizing manner, all as his absorbent stare fell downcast over his lover's pants; much to his advantage, the pants were loose-fitting, and he was able to lower the garment was relative ease.

Light straightened and bent forward. "Mmm."

He brought his lips to the bulge, kissing it, despite how it lay beneath the underwear.

The underwear started to slip away, amid slow, though deliberate fingers.

An upsurge of adrenaline coursed through the detective's system.

He remained silent, and watched the unclothed brunette touch himself. He watched his fingers as they fingers swept over the head of his member before scaling the length, touching over each inch of flesh – in his self-induced stimulation, he moaned passionately. Either one of his hands moved to rest at his lover's inner thighs. He eased his legs further apart for him, and gently, he entered the detective; no longer was the entrance a struggle for his erection to push beyond, for L had grown accustomed to such romantic affairs. The entry of Light's warming member emanated a sound from the detective, and his pale face became subtly flushed, his cheeks dyeing to a softened cherry-red. He flicked his face aside somewhat hastily, as though in attempt to hide the color from the brunette's view.

Light chuckled softly.

His pumps quickened.

"Uhnn'…L-san," the words broke from him roughly. "Mmm'."

Light leaned forward to kiss him.

L lifted his head to press his lips to the brunette's, with an uttered, "Light-kun."

The thrusting increased; the kiss broke.

The detective felt himself grow lax as he lay across the leather seats, small, quiet noises hiccupping from him as Light's member sought to penetrate the depths within him; soft, indistinct words of his pleasure tumbled from his tongue in hushed rapture. The entire interior of the vehicle became blanketed with the sound of their lovemaking, the sound of contacting flesh as the movement of Light's hips grew sharper, baritone hums and moans, abrupt gasps for air above noise of squeaking leather. The brunette, in a compulsive action, pinned his hands on top of the detective's, and entwined their fingers, pressing their palms together. He bit his lower lip as a groan escaped him, strands of his hair becoming matted to his forehead.

He gasped, clutching L's hands with greater strength. "Uhnn'. Ohhh!!"

His thrusting had quickened. His member had heated.

The detective could not feel his hands, but he could care less. His head pushed into the back of the driver's seat, casting the unkempt locks of his dark hair over his grayish stare as he whispered, "Light-kun," and attempted to look up into his lover's handsome face. The brunette did not return the glance, however, as he suddenly plunged; in turn, he dug his nails into the backs of L's hands, and cried out. He cried out his lover's name amid a moan or two, amid a dying breath of air.

Liquid spurted from his erection, surging within the other man, who let forth a moan upward, to the underside of the vehicle's hood. A second surge of his lover's release flowed within him. L could sense a subtle burn, and the liquid running down the length of his inner legs; nonetheless, such a feeling was intoxicating, _addicting_.

Slowly, Light started to release his hands, though the detective could not deem the affair finished.

The brunette gently descended atop of him, with a small breath of delicate laughter escaping him, as his hand, at once, sought to scale the other man's leg. Their faces were near; nose-to-nose, their lips merely separated by the span of a handbreadth; surely, the detective could feel his lover breathe against him, and such a delicate feeling compelled him to gather the brunette's lips in a kiss. He mimicked him, and touched the back of his head with the tenderest fingers he could muster. He let a small, inward smile cling to his lips when he listened to his love's laughter, humming warmly up at him. Their unclothed bodies pressed into one another; Light eased his pelvis against L's.

L embraced him.

Suddenly, he _more_ than loved this man.

He loved him so much, dare he say _too_ much.

He pulled away to kiss his cheek, his ear. "I _love_ you, Yagami-kun," the words left him so absently, though his soft voice still laced the words in fervor. Light brought his face above L's, and smiled down at him; his smile warmed the detective, truly, and such a handsome face caused his heart to prance over a beat or two. L said again, "I _love_ you," and kissed all over his face.

Light murmured the three words in reply, though nevertheless his eyes flashed upon a sudden recollection. His handsome smile vanished.

"L, what are we to do?"

The detective stared.

That damn inquisition had nearly escaped his mind – he had been so raveled up in their lovemaking, he had almost disregarded the question; though, he chastised himself for being so crude. He forced himself to never mind the fact that they were eloping for the sake of Light's life; he forced himself to never mind the fact that within a couple hours, authorities would begin to hunt for them. He thought of _now_, the _current_ situation, where he was and who he was with. His scheme had proven to be successful in rendering them significantly far from the prison and the authorities that lingered there, and he had been able to become alone with his Yagami-kun – they were _isolated_, alienated, though together.

They were _together_.

It was not as if Light were still locked behind the bars of his cell he was elsewhere, nor was it as if Light were being escorted to his execution, while he stood, idle, nearby, unable to either cease or hinder his love's damnation; no, they were _together_.

Light was here with him, wound up in his arms.

The brunette kissed his cheek. L looked at him.

"…L-san?"

"You need not worry, Light-kun. Actually, you must not," the detective whispered to him, tracing the contours of the brunette's chest. "We are together now, are we not? What do we have to fear, if we are in this together?" He knew he sounded a little cliché, but he smiled anyways. "Hm?"

Light flushed softly. His laughter was nervous. "You're right. I couldn't ask for anymore right now." He rested his cheek on L's shoulder. "How may I ever thank you?"

"Do that, and I will become very unhappy." A pause, as he looked elsewhere. "Light-kun, my decision to recue you from your 'rightful condemnation' was no chore to me; in fact, I wanted to rescue and elope from the prison with you. I had made the goal vital to my wellbeing. I would not wait for that day. I would not want to watch you die."

Light's eyes flashed again, though not in any sort of excitement. His brow furrowed. "But, you _despise_ Kira," he spoke softly. "…How will you ever love me wholly?"

L looked at him.

"…I suppose I never will," he whispered. "Though, I fully adore this softer, more innocent aspect of your character, Yagami-kun. I truly do." He traced the underside of the brunette's jaw with the tip of his pale finger, peering into his red-brown eyes. He added, quieter, "Unless you somehow weave Kira's ways from your personality…"

Light looked aside.

His love for the detective was, without a doubt, fervent; so greatly, that he felt no amalgamation of words could express the amount of adoration, and admiration, he felt towards this man, but he had to remember that he was no solely his lover, but his adversary as well. The realization that they both acquired multiple facets of their character donned upon him; they both possessed a sort of innocent, loving aspect of their personality, and then the more crude, zealous façade, albeit Light's aspects were more evident. Nonetheless, he thought: was he willing to set aside his designation as Kira for the sake of loving this man, for the sake of L being able to love him fully? He could not say so; his desire to change this world and eradicate those of tainted hearts had been _so fervently_ engraved within him ever since he had obtained the Death Note. He could not so simply give this up. Would he have to go behind the detective's back and appoint others as his disciples, so to speak, and have _them_ continue on the reign of Kira?

Would he have to do something like that?

Finally, Light looked at him. "…We'll see," the sigh, as he smiled softly.

_Would he have to? _

The detective hummed. He nodded vaguely, and took the brunette's face in his hands. "Mm', good." He kissed his lips. "You are, nonetheless, mine forever."

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Gah', I hope that ending was not too cheesy. You tell me & revieww.

**L'Adore.**


	22. XXII: Heart

**A/N: **So, this is it. The final chapter. I decided just to make this ending just one part, instead of two, and it's not that long. I hope it isn't as lame as the previous chapter; apologies for that.

Enjoy the chapter! I've had a blast writing this story, seriously, and I appreciate everyone who has favorited, reviewed, alterted, subscribed, PM'd, etc. I never thought this fiction would receive so much love. :) Thank you, everyone!

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**Chapter Twenty-Two; (Ending Two): Heart**

L stood outside the execution chamber, idle, caught up amid his own wordless distress as the recollections broke through each of his thoughts. He kept his tear-stricken stare cast downward and his head bowed; surely, he could let no one even suspect a sense of sorrow in him. Had the rest of them started to depart from the room yet? He didn't know. He didn't care. He felt as though he could not leave until his Yagami-kun was pronounced alive, until some miracle spurred life to bloom again somewhere within his lifeless form. Liquid obscured his vision. He knew such a thing was impossible. His lover, the man towards whom he held an inexplicable amount of adoration towards – he was gone. To continue on with life seemed to be an unattainable feat; no, he could _not_ go on, not without him.

His hand fell absently over his upper thigh, scaling along the length of his side and abdomen as his pale, slender fingers seemingly floated on top of his flesh. The self-induced sensation sent a wave of chills through his bloodstream, and for a moment he was reminded of Yagami-kun's delicate touch; impassively, his fingers moved over his mouth. He licked them in a futile attempt to mimic Light's kissing, to remember how he tasted and how his lips felt beneath his own. Fingers curled inward to create a fist, and he bowed his head against the door.

It was all so useless.

He could recall the sensations, but it served him no good.

He would never again experience them.

Here, for the first time in an uncountable sum of years, he wept. The tear streaked his pale cheek and paused just before his chin, resting there with the slightest glimmer. Its idle presence became bothersome to him, though he was not quick to smudge the droplet against the back of his hand; instead, he brought the tip of his finger to the tear and collected it. His round eyes studied the small bead of liquid in a somber trance, and soon another tear streaked his cheek.

It was so simple, the tears, but they accommodated all of his sorrow.

A small idea entered his mind.

L looked to the door in front of him and pushed it ajar, entering the room where he and the rest of the Task Force agents witnessed the execution of Kira. He peered beyond the window that had allowed them to see Yagami-kun strapped to the gurney, to see the needles enter his veins and death-inducing liquid surge into him. The thoughts spurred another pair of tears to fall as he approached the window, lifting the finger that held the tear. He pressed it against the glass, holding there for only a moment before he began to draw a shape, moving his finger slightly upward before sweeping downward in an elegant arch, sweeping upward, and moving his finger just subtly downward. L blinked to clear his vision, calming his quivering chin by lifting his finger to his face again, collecting the beads of liquid.

He retraced the image.

His hand fell to his side. L looked beyond the glass, beyond the shape he had drawn.

Yagami-kun's form had already been removed from the chamber, but he still felt as though his lover was somewhere in there; in some mystical, spiritual form, Light was in his presence.

He took a step back.

He had drawn a heart; its watery outline had started to run.

The image blurred in his vision.

He suddenly looked away from it with a whispered, "Light-kun," leaving his lips.

It was finished. L would never see him again, not even in the second world, the afterlife. He knew his Yagami-kun would be dwelling in _Mu_ – in a realm of _nothingness_ – while he, he assumed, would be in Heaven.

He only cried harder. What damnation.

His eyes turned to the window. Slowly, he approached it, with shaking hands set before him to rest against the glass. His tongue moved over his mouth as he set his lips at the center of the heart and kissed it; for seemingly moments on end, he kept his lips set there.

_I love you, Yagami-kun,_ the words echoed in his head.

_Forgive me._

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Review!

**L'Adore.**

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